


Bella the Brave and Tales from Beyond the Mountain

by Sketch_A_Bow



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: BAMF Hobbits, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dwarf Culture & Customs, F/M, Female Bilbo, Generous non-canon moments, Hobbit Culture, Hobbit tactical warfare, I apologize in advance if this story takes forever to finish, I maintain that Legolas was just jealous of Tauriel, I mean besides looking awesome, I promise your knives are the best weapons in the garrison, I will pull a Kevin Tran, I'll haunt a typewriter and make me friend post it for me, M/M, Misunderstandings, Multi, No worries, Sassy Hobbits, Tale of epic proportions, Wingfic, With emotional sharing issues, all the villains will be dealt with by awesome hobbit superpowers, and someone else might be female too, animal forms, because she got to talk to the pretty dwarf, because she is just awesome, but I promise it will finish, but Thorin is still a majestic pain, but he can marry royalty just like Thrandy wanted, but shh spoilers, come enjoy all my unusual personal ships, dwarvish weapons are pretty useless around here, elven culture, enjoy the hidden fandom references to everything else, even if I die, fem!Bilbo, he never said royalty of which race, hobbit have superpowers, loopholes are the best, nobody will convince me to not have Beorn call the hobbits bunnies at every available opportunity, sorry Fili, the story is different, there are lines stolen from frozen and I am still laughing at my own cleverness, we take all sorts, which they totally do
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-26
Updated: 2015-03-04
Packaged: 2018-02-10 11:49:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 39,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2023998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketch_A_Bow/pseuds/Sketch_A_Bow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bella's life was never normal by the hobbit standard, and after her parent's deaths it seemed easier to just give in to the pressure to conform. Until a unlikely group of arrogant, ungrateful and frankly alarming dwarves offer her a cause that might just make standing against the world worthwhile. </p><p>Or, in other words, my remake and extension of the hobbit tale, with female Bilbo and her fiery niece at the helm, in a world where hobbits and elves have animal forms and earthy powers. Get ready for a mostly fluffy, sometimes angsty, and alltogether sassy ride.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Auxin

          There were many rumors that passed around the taverns of men about the likes of Hobbits. It was amusing in thinking upon it that perhaps because they were such gossipy creatures themselves, that gossip seemed to spread from them into the outside world as well. And it was not as if much else did. The shire was a place that offered little in trade nor interest to the world of Men, even less so to dwarves. The only race that seemed to even have dealings with those odd Halflings were the elves, and they were just as odd, if quite a bit more terrifying. Hobbits were often overlooked for this reason alone. They had nothing which anyone else would want, and were no threat to be worth trying to understand. They stayed most exclusively in their Shire, and most everyone was happy to forget they even existed. And that, as like most other things about Hobbits, was a carefully planned ruse, so crafted as to look natural. No, if Men could see what hobbits acted like and did in their wee ‘holes’, they would be most shocked.

 

 

           One of the first secret things to know about Hobbits: they put far more cunning and work into disguise than one would originally deem them possible of managing at all. It was true that they lived a simple life and enjoyed good earth and food and the like. But living in such a way gave them more than enough free time to practice other… endeavors. Every fauntling up to the oldest hobbit crone was proficient in some form of defensive fighting. Many preferred to practice with their farm tools (Any of which could be quite deadly, but all of which looked, as their wielders, harmless.) But the weaponry could be as strange as Lobelia’s umbrella, or Farmer Maggot’s oaken heartwood bolos.

 

 

          The second secret was that their Creator did not leave her children as completely inept as everyone save the elves assumed. It was common knowledge that Elves were of a more fluid nature than any other race, able to pour their bodies into other forms. The most talentless of Elflings could manage at least two forms, usually one of swiftness and one of strength. They were most often animal forms, though it was not so odd to hear of certain individuals more in tune with the Earth being able to channel plant or tree characteristics. It was much less common knowledge, however, that Hobbits were related to elves, albeit in a distant way. And it was a closely guarded fact among Hobbits and Elves that Hobbits too, had this fluid ability. Hobbit forms were much simpler than the elves, being as such that they had much shorter, mortal lives. All Hobbits were born with a certain connection to the earth and growing things, though it manifested in different ways. And most fauntlings developed an animal form by their twenties, with the shifting between forms becoming more controllable with age and practice. One of the unique quirks of hobbits though, was that they retained some trait of their form at all times. Depending on what the form was, it could be a more physical manifestation, or a retaining of the traits of the form. One might have fox ears, or the sharp eyesight of a thrush, or a bushy squirrel tail. These traits could be repressed, in order to hide such a thing from prying outsiders, but such was a skill rarely honed, with adventures outside of the Shire being a rare and scandalous thing.

 

 

 

          Which brings us to the main focus of our story: One Bella Baggins.  Her life was strange from the beginning. She grew up an only child, her parents never having much of a wish for more than their beloved daughter. This of course set the neighbors to whispering, a fact that soon became the Baggins family legacy. Bella herself made people whisper, about many things. She was born with the darkest hair, inky black with a greenish sheen almost like an oil spill, and many said it was a sign of darkness in the babe. Her parents had grey brown and chesnut hair, respectively, both very  average hobbit hair colors.

 

          They were both perfectly respectable hobbits. Her mother’s earth-sense allowed her to coax the most wonderful herbs into growth. Belladonna was aptly named, and was revered as one of the best herbalists in the Shire. Her husband specialized in not so much growing things, but in almost speaking to the ground itself, in knowing what the plants needed from their beds. This talent had him travelling all over the area, helping farmers understand how to best grow their crops and rid them of disease. It was a long running joke however, that Bungo saved his best secrets for his wife’s garden. The two were very much in love, and even their animal forms, a squirrel and a raccoon, seemed made for each other. Her squirrel form was perfect for adventuring, and the ever present bushy tail was the embodiment of Belladonna’s vibrant nature. Bungo’s form reflected his large but cuddly personage, and he was always there to fish his wife out of trouble. Bella loved her parents dearly, and some of her fondest childhood memories were of the three of them curling up next to the fire, and being warm and safe amongst her parent’s soft tails.

 

          Fond memories seemed to escape Bella as she grew older though. Her parents made sure to keep her earth-sense carefully hidden from others, after it had all too clearly manifested itself when she was 6. They had left her to play along the backside of their smial, while her mother worked amongst the garden a little ways off. Bella had gotten frustrated with the lack of showing talent in the past months, and seeing several of the Proudfeet out that morning, admiring their youngest’s very respectable blueberry bushes had been the last straw. Scrunching her face up, Bella had concentrated as hard as she could. She dug her hands into the ground around her and tried to feel the life thrumming within it, and to push it to listen to her and grow into something.

 

          She figured it must have worked when she heard her mother gasp. Opening her eyes, Bella craned her head back, looking up the wall of thick, roping thorn-vines that had sprung up in front of her. The mass was almost as tall the smial hill rising behind it, and Bella felt a smug smile settle onto her face. Let’s see how impressive Durban’s blueberries looked now. Her confidence faded slightly when she saw the look on her mother’s face, and suddenly what she had done seemed more shameful than stunning. Belladonna wrapped her tiny daughter in a hug as the tears ran down her face, and tried to comfort her as best she could. She looked up at the foreboding wall of thorns again, and her heart almost broke as she heard Bella’s whisper.

 

     “Why can’t I just be normal?”

 

 

 

 

          That was a line Bella remembered repeating often after that day, though her parents always firmly rebutted it with, “Normal is average and being the way you are just means you are destined for greater things. After all, you are a Baggins _and_ a Took!” That declaration always made her smile, and for a time she would believe it. Until she managed to do something else odd and altogether unhobbitish. Like go adventuring in the woods, wearing boys clothes all the time, and being dead set on learning Sindarin. She even spent her 18 th summer with a group of elves that were in the area, learning as much as she could, and not returning home for days at a time.

 

          And that is how it came about that she arrived back at Bag-End, breathless and ready to tell Bungo all about Lembas bread and could they please make some? But Bungo was not there. Neither was Belladonna. She was greeted instead with the grim face of Lobelia, who told her coldly that her parents had both perished in a terrible accident involving a rotten tree and _adventuring_. And then she told her that perhaps if she hadn’t been so busy off prancing about and had been at home like a _respectable_ hobbit, her parents wouldn’t be dead. With a final huff, Lobelia stomped off, and Bella couldn’t even care at the silverware she saw shining in her pockets. Bella vowed then that she would no longer go off on stupid ventures, and she put herself into being an image her parent’s could’ve been proud of.

 

 

 

          The one good thing that came about from the death of Belladonna and Bungo was that it seemed to make everyone kinder. It was a terrible thing, to lose someone’s parents so young, and the lass was trying so hard now to be good and proper. There were still whispers about her animal form, and most decided that the trauma of the deaths was more than enough to delay or even eliminate such a thing from occurring as it should.

 

          What nobody knew was that Bella’s form had come in right enough, the night after her parent’s death. She had curled into their bed, too numb to grieve as one normally would. All she could think of was their fluffy tails wrapping around her in comfort, and she had fallen asleep to her memories. When she had woken up that morning, it took a while for her to recall the reason for the pain in her heart. She was warm, protected on all sides by soft darkness. When her mind finally processed and woke up, she quickly pushed herself up, gasping at the ice in her chest. That was when she realized, and was torn between crying and laughing at the cruel humor of her life.

 

           For around her lay wings. Huge, inky wings, raven wings. They were strong, almost shield like from the outside, but the inside was coated with soft, fluffy feathers. Despite her growing resignation to always be horribly odd, she found the wings fitting. They were like her; strong on the outside, but vunerable within, and oh so fragile. She never spoke of them to another hobbit, for the only ones who would understand were now gone.

 

          Wings and bird forms were not that unusual, but they were rarely anything larger than a sparrow. Bigger and fiercer birds like falcons or owls were the realm of the elves. And never had she heard of a raven form. It seemed a grim token, and one she was sure would be taken as the precursor of bad luck. Bella was relieved that she found retracting her form so easy, and was grateful for some small luck in her life.

 

 

 


	2. Smart vs Stubborn

     It was 12 unremarkable years before Bella almost lost control of her wings. 12 YEARS! And of course it had to be because of a wizard.

 

     Her life had been an industrious one, if not happy. She was content with routine. And it had been routine, right up until the moment it wasn’t. It had been just another morning on the front step, smoking a bit of Old Toby and enjoying the sun when that specter had shown up. Gandalf hadn’t been seen in the Shire since a bit before her parents had died, but Bella knew him well enough. He had been a great friend of her mother’s and the catalyst for some of Belladonna’s more fantastical trips. He had also been the one her mother asked after for advice on her daughter’s strange earth-sense, something Bella had never revealed that she overheard.

 

     As he stood by the gate playing word-games with her, she knew that somehow Gandalf knew about her wings too. While Bella got more and more flustered and irritated, he just smirked, looking on as she fought to keep control of her temper and her form. Then he broke into a satisfied smile as he stated, “Well, that’s decided then. It’ll be very good for you, and very amusing for me. I’ll inform the others.“

 

     And then that damn wizard flounced off without so much as a by-your-leave. Bella was so mad she could barely contain herself. She stomped into her smial, emerged not a moment later with a canvas bag, and stormed away into the woods. If anyone had been outside, and if anyone had been listening, they might have heard an enraged scream that sounded almost like a screech. But of course nobody was.

 

 

     Although she was never sure why, Bella was infinitely grateful that everyone in The Shire was content to ignore her when possible, and that she was allowed to escape to the woods without being questioned. Perhaps they still pitied her, or maybe they were scared. Nobody ever heard the dreadful noises coming from the woods, but neither did they press the strange hobbit lass.

 

     The wood was her only escape, a place she could let her wings free without breaking something in her cramped home. She made sure to be attentive to her form, practicing and exercising her wings to perfection. She strived to be as fluid as possible in her shifting. Privately pleased at the strength of her wings, and the protection they offered, Bella allowed herself to forget the burdens of being proper.

 

     Though she could never be completely confident in how they would take a blow (as she had no one to spar with, a repressed private pain), she had wrapped herself in them often enough to soften a fall, and they served well in that regard. She found that the weapons most useful to her with her wings were small throwing knives, which of course was an unusual hobbit weapon, but that was a fact she had come to accept. Her skill was honed to a deadly accuracy, the blades sinking into trunks and limbs, and Bella also worked on using her wings to ‘fly’ and retrieve them for reuse.

 

She dodged imaginary foes, twisting and shielding and throwing until she had created an intricate dance. She didn’t know why she did it, why she practiced to fight an enemy that would never come. Perhaps because it calmed her. And maybe because she had felt attacked her entire life. Her earth-sense got attention as well, and she found a twisted humor in the fact that the things she created were also weapons.

 

     While Bella found that her power could be used to coax into life a wide variety of plants, one thing was constant; they were strong, dark, and thorny. She made thorn trees and wicked vines, and her personal favorite, tiny delicate looking grass plants, with leaf blades as sharp as any dagger. She could crouch to the ground and whisper to it, and the grass would flow out from around her into a field of unassuming danger. All of her defenses pleased her, though she hated the thought of causing anyone pain.

 

     Training was usually reserved for Thursday evenings, but this was a special circumstance. Bella trained right through elevensies and lunch, until she was calm and her anger had been spent, only returning home to make herself dinner. That was when all Valar broke loose.

 

 

 

     Bella had just settled herself down to a small dinner, with seed cakes cooling in the window as a reward for her busy day. The fork was halfway to her mouth when the blasted knock came. She had more than half a mind to ignore it, but company of any sort was a curiosity enough that she merely grumbled as she shuffled down the hallway. When she opened the round door to, _of course_ , a bloody dwarf built like an oak tree, all Bella could do was sigh. “What is my life even,” she muttered, glaring at the hulking creature before her. Pausing for a moment, the dwarf apparently decided to disregard her comment, and replied only with a bow and a stiffly delivered, “Dwalin, at your service.”

 

     Bella just knew that if she slammed the door in his face, it would only make things worse. That didn’t mean she would halt such actions, however. And she got so close. The door was mere inches from being sealed, when thick tattooed knuckles wrapped themselves around the edge and pushed, _hard_. A bit of pride flared in Bella’s chest as she actually held her position, for a moment. Then her chest just hurt, because she was on the floor. She winced as the door smacked her in the head, but she knew it was her own fault anyway.

 

     Dwalin looked down at her, his face unimpressed. “I’m just gonna pretend that didn’t happen, _lassie_ , and we can both move on from this moment, aye?”

 

     “Aye,” Bella croaked, rubbing her head. The dwarf actually smiled, and then wandered off into her house like he owned it. By the time she recovered her dignity, Dwalin was finishing off her fine dinner, and Bella silently feared for her seed-cakes.

 

 

     They were soon forgotten amongst the mayhem, and Bella slouched against the rounded wall, wondering how her tiny home could physically contain such energy. The next dwarf had shown up before she could properly muster her anger, and when she had opened the door, she couldn’t bring herself to be mean to the white-haired elder. He looked like someone’s grandfather, for Yavanna’s sake! She can’t fight against that!

 

 

     So she had tried at civility, and had found him more than willing to respond in kind. Feeling somewhat appeased, Bella had let him in and observed the violent greeting with some amusement. The two were an odd pair to be related, but they complemented each other.

 

     The next knock brought her only a feeling of resigned annoyance. A double dose of youthful and frankly rather fetching dwarves had taken her aback for a moment, and she almost giggled at the oddly synchronized bowing. The mirth quickly dissipated and morphed into an overwhelming urge to knee the blonde one somewhere unpleasant as he swaggered into her house.  She weighed the amount of satisfaction against the level of rudeness that would result from stabbing him with one of his own blades. And don’t even get her started on the dark one! She was about to release a war cry upon the younger for touching her mother’s things, but luckily Dwalin saved them. She tried to glare a hole through that too pretty for a boy hair, and Dwalin threw a wink her way as her dragged the ungrateful youths away.

 

 

 

     When Bella swung her poor door open for the last time, she was too exasperated to be shocked at the dwarrows that collapsed in. She chose instead to fix her gaze upon the tall shadow of a wizard behind them, who was apparently so devoid of a proper sense of ethics that he only grinned pleasantly back at her. Huffing, (and she had done more of that tonight than she recalled doing in the last 5 years) she sashayed down the hall, and decided to ignore the fact that anything was wrong in her house at all.

 

     Or rather, she ignored it until she saw her wonderful cheese in the hands of a spectacularly shaped dwarf. She could guess by his girth that taking back her food was an already lost battle, and instead made a last futile attempt at logic.

 

     “Oh, but he eats it by the block!” echoed from behind her, and the joviality in the tone made her teeth grind. Did nobody else here understand the gravity of this situation? She was being robbed of all the food that was supposed to last her the season, and she was expected to be accommodating?!

 

     Swinging around, Bella decided it was high time to make her displeasure known. She aimed a punch right at where the voice had come from, and was pleased with the jarring that shot up her arm as she connected solidly with something _fleshy_. The howl that followed also made her feel better. She finally looked down, to where a fabric and hair mass lay upon her polished floors. Bella felt a twinge of guilt as she realized that she had hit the one with the funny hat (what was his name again? Blast it all, he was just funny-hat-dwarf). He had seemed genuinely nice, inasmuch as anyone who ransacked her home could be nice. Deciding that retreat was a wise battle-plan, Bella strode off, ignoring the clear uproar forming behind her.

 

 

     “She… She hit me! Why’d she hit me?!” Bofur asked, looking around askance. Bifur, chortling to himself, offered a hand to pull his cousin up with. Once he was sure that Bofur would remain standing, Bifur fired off rapidly in Iglishmek, “She has a fire-spirit, does she not?”

 

     “Indeed,” Bofur replied, brushing himself off. “She is quite the… Îshtûmith.” He couldn’t help but crack a smile at his joke, and Bifur laughed along. Slinging an arm around his cousin, Bofur ambled out to join the rest of the Company for dinner, absentmindedly rubbing his jaw.

 

 

     Having her house overrun with dwarrow gave Bella a strange urge to be prepared. For what, she hadn’t the foggiest. But she had long ago decided to trust her instincts, as they were the only other thing looking out for her best interests anymore, and so she listened to them. She stole into her room when the sight of the damn arrogant blonde (something like Lily) _walking_ across her table and precious food became too much to bear.

 

     Breathing deeply to calm herself, Bella threw open her small cupboard and began shuffling through her things. She finally uncovered what she called her _adventuring_ clothes, sturdy and practical things that had been shunned to the dark after her parent’s passing. Changing quickly, she sighed as the smell of earth and woodsmoke brought back memories. The sheath and knives were added on from her training bag, and the layered ensemble made her feel more grounded. She then took the rest of her things and arranged them all into a neat pack.

 

     Was she planning on fleeing her own home, just because of a few strangers? She didn’t know. But it wasn’t as if it could do any harm to be ready, whatever may come. Sighing, Bella left her pack by the doorway and wandered back towards her kitchen, terrified of what she might find. Maybe they would have all overeaten and passed out, and she could roll them out of her door and down the hill…

 

 

 

     Bella let out a small shriek as a knife flew by in front of her eyes. She had a hard time not flinging her wings around herself for protection.  “Sorry!” She whipped her head to the left to see the young, dark haired one grinning and not looking very sorry at all as he hurled a bowl just over her head. Ducking, Bella scuttled out of the hallway to seek shelter in the doorway. Then her blood began to boil. She felt her eyes narrow as she looked upon that same funny-hat dwarf (his name was _definitely_ Bofur, and she planned to not forget him anytime soon) absolutely wrecking her silverware.

 

     As if it wasn’t enough trying to keep it out of grubby Sackville-Baggins pockets, as if it wasn’t enough that the only physical tokens of a once happy life and the memory of her parents hadn’t been trampled on and disregarded all night. Now he had to go and do his own damage. Growling, Bella finally felt her limit reached. She threw herself at Bofur, and felt gratified already as she sailed toward him. His face changed comically in the middle of singing his ridiculous song. “That’s what Bella Baggins ha- Ahh!”

 

     He had the right of it at least. She did hate it. And this was the consequence for doing things she hated and singing about it.

 

 

     Kili couldn’t breathe. This honestly was going to be the best trip ever, and it hadn’t even truly started yet. He fell against his brother and they both collapsed to the floor, but he didn’t mind. He rolled around on the rug trying to breathe as he listened to the battle erupting around him.

 

     “Help! Oh Mahal hobbits are vicious creatures, I was wrong, I take it back, Smaug isn’t the chiefest and greatest calamity, we’ve just now happened across it, and I suggest we take the ale and run for the hills boys!”

 

     Kili could hear the laughter in Bofur’s voice, and it only made his mirth grow. Then he heard a screech from what could have only been the ‘calamity’ that was after Bofur, and he doubled over again.

 

 

     Everyone calmed down when they heard the booming knock coming from the door.

 

     “He is here.” Gandalf peered around at each dwarf in the house, and made sure to scoop Bella up on his way to the door. He placed her down gently upright in the hallway, and she just huffed as the group of dwarrows all crowded past her towards the door. Who in Arda was here anyhow? Surely there were enough dwarves in her house as it was?

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Long Trip to a Short End

     And as it happened, Gandalf opened the door to find not a dwarf, but a hobbit. Or at least that’s who was front and center. He peered down in surprise at the diminutive hobbit girl standing on the doorstep, and then smiled when he saw Thorin lurking in the shadows behind her. Chuckling to himself, Gandalf ushered them both in.

 

     Bella pushed her way to the front as soon as she spotted the coppery head next to Gandalf. “Rowan!” she called out, and watched as the light hazel eyes zeroed in on her. “What are you doing here?” she fussed as she bundled the young girl into her side. Rowan only offered up a slightly annoyed grin at her ‘aunt’.

 

     “Why is it, that whenever you have something exciting happening, I’m not invited? It’s terribly rude, to not include others.” She sniffed. “Be that as it may, I simply had to find my own way to the party. Just so happens a certain someone,”

     and here she threw a disdainful look over her shoulder at some point behind Gandalf,

     “is quite hopeless at finding their way anywhere, and needed a kind hobbit to show him the way.” Bella heard a deep growl from whomever her dear niece had just insulted, and wondered if he was possibly part wolf, with how deep it was.

 

     Deciding it was as opportune a time as was likely to come along, Gandalf coughed and stepped away, allowing a… dwarf to step into the center of the room. Frankly, he was rather terrifying. Bella’s first impression was dark hair and heavy eyebrows, and the most intense blue eyes. Which were trying to burn her own out, apparently. She coughed and refrained from reaching for one of her hidden blades as introductions were made.

 

      And _Oh_. She had thought that the blonde one (Fili?) was arrogant. But he had nothing on the ponciness of this dwarf. The title of King did little to deflate his ego, she was sure. His attitude sealed her determination to not give anything of herself to these dwarves. They had no reason to offer her any kindness, and she had no reason to let them into her life. Thorin’s immediate dismissal of her only assured Bella that she had made the right decision.

 

 

     Unfortunately, her niece had no such hard feelings towards the strangers thronging around her aunt’s home. Rowan bounced excitedly from one dwarf to the next, seemingly undeterred by the dismissals she received. Most of the older members grouched her away like she was a child, but Fili and Kili seemed quite taken with her, and the one called Ori didn’t seem to have a choice in the matter. Bella started to get quite concerned (incensed) though, when she saw Bofur talking to her niece. Walking (storming) over, Bella told Rowan she needed some help clearing off the table (even though the dwarves had already done so). She all but dragged Rowan off to the next room, all while Bofur looked on wide eyed.

 

 

     By the end of the night Bella was almost ready to wish for a hole to open in the ground and swallow her. She was surrounded by people who thought that insane things were perfectly reasonable, and were attempting to get her to join the madness. They had invaded her home, eaten her food, and were now trying to make a long trip to a short end sound like the perfect way to spend a few years. The worst part was that they had gotten her niece on their side, filling her head with grand adventure stories and ideas of glory.

 

     But Bella knew all too well the end that ‘adventures’ could come to, and she had no wish for Rowan to learn such a lesson. She was too young, and too ready to throw her future away for strangers. Bella wanted them all out of her home and away from her life, as soon as possible. But she knew it would be rude to throw them out at so late a time, and Gandalf was not going to budge anyhow. So she did the only thing she could in the situation, which was to gather herself, ready rooms for her ‘guests’, and ensure that Rowan was safely ensconced in her room with her. She was not letting any shenanigans take place in her house tonight. Settling onto her travel pad (which was nonchalantly barring the door), Bella tried to ignore the own yearning in her heart to see mountains and visit elves again.  

 

            ~~~

 

     She couldn’t seem to stop sighing. She wondered on how she never heard any other hobbit sigh so much in all her memory, and she sighed again. There was nothing for it. She knew she was never going to live this moment down, and she knew Rowan was going to be absolutely livid. But there was nothing for it. She cinched the last strap on her pack angrily, only sparing a twinge of guilt for her roughness before hoisting it onto her back.

 

     She was, Eru help her, going… with the dwarves. She was going to chase the group down like a foolhardy fauntling, and most likely get herself killed along the way. That being said for her recklessness, she was not going to go unprepared. Her pack had been waiting, with just the provision of some food and extra clothes needed to be ready. She had quickly written out a note leaving all of her property and Bag End to Rowan, requesting only that if she passes it on, it be to some nice Baggins with a growing family (namely, not Lobelia). She felt terrible for leaving her niece, and knew she would feel betrayed, and so she wrote an extra note to her, begging her to understand and attempting to convey how much she meant to her as her last real family. She hoped the hobbit lass would stay safe while she was away.

 

      Perhaps she could be the respectable Baggins the family had never found in her. She still felt sad over her parent’s deaths, but she had realized that Lobelia’s hateful words didn’t hold any weight. Her parents did whatever made them happy, and she could not deny herself a change of pace when she had been merely surviving for so long. Bella had a feeling they would encourage her decision, though of course she could never really know for sure. Heaving a final sigh, she looked around her home for the last time before gently shutting the door on her old life.

 

 

     It took longer than she thought it would to catch up to the Company, and Bella had started to fear she was too late. When she finally saw the group ambling along on their ponies, she had to muffle the excitement in her chest. This was not meant to be fun, remember the numerous possible ways to die, not a good time at all. She wasn’t happy to be forced into riding one of the beasts, and let out a groan as the bags of money were tossed about. Never. Living this. Down.

 

     Bofur’s joke of a handkerchief made her want to hit him, but she was soon saved by recalling that she usually left an emergency one in her knife pack. She pulled it out triumphantly with a small cheer, her jubilation cut off with a glare from Thorin. His disdain for her made her feel both cold and frustrated, but she tried her best to ignore him. She wasn’t here for him after all, she didn’t need his arrogance. Bella hadn’t quite settled on a sole reason for running after the group, but it definitely wasn’t for some annoying exiled King. The rest of the day passed slowly, and Bella was sore by the time they made camp, but she refused to allow any one of the dwarrows to see her weakness.

 

     Gingerly, she waddled along the outer edge of the camp until she found a hollow in the roots of a huge old stump to settle into. She was largely ignored by most of the company, and in turn ignored them. Bofur raised a bowl in her direction as an offer of sharing the dinner, and Bella in turn raised her own small dinner from her pack. Nodding and smiling, the amiable dwarf turned back to the fire. He really was a suspicious fellow. There was no way anyone could be that cheerful all the time. Or maybe there was just some weird dwarven imbalance, because while Bofur smiled constantly, Thorin never smiled at all. Bella peeked around the stump looking for said dwarf, and found him brooding in the dark. Typical.

 

     Huffing, she turned back to her meal, and then almost dropped it as a hideous sound wavered in from the distant hills. She fought for control as the noise sent chills down her spine and made her form’s feathers rustle in agitation. Eyes wide, Bella decided that maybe the fire wasn’t so bad. Ignoring the pain in her legs, she nonchalantly moved her pack a few feet closer to the group. The young brothers began talking about orcs across the fire, answering her unvoiced question. They kept conversing, about things coming quick in the night and leaving naught but blood, and Bella started to feel disinterested in her food. Then of course Mr. Grumpypants filled his quota for brooding and started yelling at the pair instead, ranting about orcs being a joke before storming off again. Apparently the right side of the woods had not gotten a proper glowering yet.

 

      Balin strolled over and tried to offer some comfort for Thorin’s outburst, and Bella was glad that there seemed to be at least one other person on this quest that knew how normal people acted. She found his tale interesting, and the laying out of Thorin’s tragedies made her feel bad for him. She could relate to the losing of one’s family, though that certainly gave him no excuse for acting how he did. But maybe losing so much and then being expected to act as the champion and leader of a people did. Just a bit.  

 

 

 


	4. Pocahobbit and the ignorant savages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella grows a bit vexed with her lack of cultivated nature-loving company, and then she gets to teach a lesson in the true badassery of plants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now we're finally getting to some action! Hopefully the story hasn't unbearably dull so far, as the more traditional scenes are starting to line up. Anyway, see what you think, and please enjoy!

     The entire company was in poor spirits. Even the ponies seemed depressed by the pervading dampness of the not-quite drizzle that had started before the sun had wandered above the horizon. It was perfectly understandable for the rain to be frustrating and darken the mood.

 

     Which was why Thorin was confused by the Halfling’s cheer.  She had been as seemingly put out as the rest of the Company when they had broken camp, sitting listlessly in the saddle. But as the rain had gotten more contrary, she had perked up like a parched flower. She giggled to herself as the dwarves fought to block the rain from their faces, losing to the wind as it blew from one direction and then another. It grated on Thorin’s nerves every time he looked over and saw their burglar’s mirth. What right did she have in being so happy in such miserable weather? It was strange and out of place. He actually welcomed the distraction offered by Dori complaining of the rain to their wizard. Someone had the right idea at least.

 

                                                                                      ~ - ~ - ~

 

     It had been far too long since Bella had so thoroughly enjoyed being outdoors. It seemed a shameful thing to say as a hobbit, but the brand of nature she loved was a rare find in the Shire. If one enjoyed gentle green hills poured over with honeyed sunlight, it was the perfect place. But the rain always fell gently upon the land, and the earth there seemed more like an old soul, soft and set into its ways long ago. This land they traveled now held a youthfulness in it, and to Bella seemed full of the joy of being alive, with the spirit of a child.

 

     The rain was playful, and the small ferns and fungi growing along the path were endearingly focused on their tiny lives within the vast network of the forest. It was the kind of day that made her want to rush off and cherish the daylight, feel the wind in her wings and climb high into a tree to listen in on what the world had to say. For once in a great while, she sharply missed having someone to share her feelings and thoughts with. But none of the dwarves she traveled with would be able to understand the life surging around them. They spent their time amongst the cold dead rocks and metal deep underground, where none of Yavanna’s precious creations could possibly thrive. Thorin’s continued glaring at her certainly held up her theory, though it didn’t bother her as she expected it would. It only made her feel sad for him. How terrible it would be to be blind to so much.

 

     No, the closest thing she would get to understanding from present company would be Gandalf. Musing to herself, she wondered if he could feel the life force of the plants like hobbits and elves could. She listened on as the dwarves tried to convince him to change the weather, but found her mind drifting off because of the impossibility of the notion. His reply about finding another wizard brought her interest back though. “Are there other wizards?” She asked, unable to quell her curiosity.

 

     Looking surprised that anyone was actually interested, Gandalf replied, “yes, there are five. The greatest of our order is Saruman, the White. There are the two Blues…” A look of confusion came over his face. “Do you know, I’ve quite forgotten their names.”

 

     Bella snorted to herself, imagining how rare meetings between them must be, and the possibility for strangeness in such an encounter. Realizing he had stopped short, Bella prompted him for the fifth.

 

          “Oh, that would be Radagast, the Brown.”

 

     Blue, White, Grey, Brown. Bella wondered if the wizards got to choose what color they were, or if they were just stuck with one. Grey seemed to be the embodiment of Gandalf, chosen or not.

 

      “So,” she continued, not wanting the conversation to die quite so soon. She was enjoying herself. “Is he a great wizard, or is he… more like you?” Bella realized she had sounded rather rude when she heard Bofur chuckling quietly behind her. Gandalf only raised his eyebrows and gave one of his usual vague prophetic responses about him being great in his own way.

 

      Bella truly did like the sound of this odd wizard that got along with the animals and the woods, but her attention had been pulled behind her to where she heard Thorin carrying out a hushed conversation with Bofur. She wouldn’t have noticed at all except Thorin’s voice was too distinct to be anyone else, and he spoke so rarely at length that any case of him doing so had her immediate nosiness.

 

     It wasn’t all that hard for her to listen in. Dwarrows were such loud creatures that their standard of quiet was really not on par with that of hobbits. To be honest, Bella wondered if they were all not a small bit deaf. So she listened to Thorin’s whispering that was more like restrained shouting.

 

                                                                       ~ - ~ - ~

 

     Thorin blamed it on their current leg of the journey being situated in such bland woodland, and having nothing else to focus on. He could not get the damn Halfling’s cheerful disposition out of his mind, and it was driving him to distraction. He felt an impulsive need to understand the driving force behind people’s actions, and the burglar was an enigma he could not crack at present. Noticing that she was drawn into conversation with the wizard, Thorin took the opportunity to sidle his pony over closer to Bofur. He decided that out of the rest of the Company, Bofur had interacted with hobbits the most, and therefore had the greatest chance of understanding them. The miner offered him a smile as he got closer, and seemed content to wait for him to speak. After taking a moment to gather himself, Thorin instead blurted out his thoughts.

 

          "Why is the Halfling so happy? It’s pouring rain in every direction and we are traveling through boring countryside. What could she possibly be finding amusement in?”

 

     Bofur looked at his expression and began to laugh. It made him feel ridiculous and annoyed.

 

          “Well,” Bofur sighed, his chuckles trailing off. “I imagine Bella is happy because the rain makes her so. And the woods as well.”

 

     What? That revealed nothing about anything. Looking over and realizing that his answer was not satisfactory, Bofur snuffled about for a moment before trying a different approach.

 

          “Ye remember when we were in the Shire, right?”

 

     Thorin gave him a blank stare.

 

          “Where the hobbits live,” Bofur elaborated. “Well, if ye noticed, everything was very green there, and almost every household had a garden, as well as a front porch. It’s no small mystery that they enjoy growing things and being outside. So it seems natural to me that Bella would find happiness in the rain and being surrounded by growing things. It’s what brings them joy, just as mountains bring joy to dwarrows. That’s my two cents anyway,” he finished hastily, his face pinking up.

 

     Grunting, Thorin shifted his pony away from the dwarf and back towards the front of the group. The entire ordeal still left him feeling disgruntled, though he thought he could vaguely understand what Bofur was getting at. In any case, the rain had finally ceased, though the damp it left behind still had him in a combative mood.

 

 

 

     As such, it was only a matter of inevitability that he and Gandalf butted heads that evening when they stopped to make camp. Just because the wizard held himself above any conflicts and was great friends with those tree-shaggers did _not_ mean that he had the right to drag Thorin’s _entire_ mission off track to have a sleep-over. They were making good time as they were, and any visit to the elves would require him to be _polite_ , and more importantly, would put him within their debt. He wanted nothing to do with their kind, and refused to accept help from betrayers and oath-breakers.

 

 

     Gandalf wanted to crack Thorin across the head just to see if dwarf skulls were really as hard as legend claimed. He was being completely unreasonable, and wrapped the grudges of his past about him as one would a blanket on a cold night. The insinuation of him being a thief was enough for Gandalf. Turning with a flourish, he stalked away from the confounded dwarf king and headed to the woods to seek out the danger he felt was lurking. Bella’s worried exclamation followed him down the hill. Not bothering to slow, he shouted as he marched through the camp. “Perhaps when someone can manage to knock some sense into Thorin, I will return. For now, I go to seek the company of the only one with any sense around here!”

 

     Seeing Ori’s mouth open, he further supplied, “Myself, Master Dwarf!”

 

     Feeling a twinge of panic, Bella turned and instead fixed her glare upon the ‘King’ who was obviously at fault. Feeling harried under the hostile gaze, Thorin ducked away, seeking shelter behind the ruins of the farmhouse.

 

     Too caught up in her inner arguments, Bella hardly noticed as Bofur thrust two bowls of some variation of stew into her arms and directed her to the edge of the woods where Fili and Kili were on pony-watch. Grumbling, she decided that as soon as she was done handing the food over, she was going to go look for Gandalf. Whatever mad delusions Thorin had, they very much needed the wizard around to guide them, and she feared without his guidance the trip would turn rapidly to ruin.

 

                                                                                                                            ~ - ~ - ~ - ~

 

     Upon hearing of the brother’s issue, Bella felt her desire for Gandalf grow tenfold. The trees that were ripped up spoke of something large crashing through, and she had no choice but to follow Kili as they went searching for something that could easily squash them. Oh goodness, Trolls! Really? As much as she would rather not, Bella knew that if she did not take on the scouting, one of the knuckleheaded dwarves would be sure to mess it up with their loud mouths.

 

     Holding in a sigh, (and it had become a most terrible habit), she skirted the edge of the clearing, listing this as one of the occasions in which she was glad to be small. The trolls carried on in a most foul way, sneezing into what she assumed was to be their dinner, and talking about adding squirrel dung as flavoring. And she thought she had hosted quite a disruptive party! But for all the unpleasantness, the ponies were easy to find, and Bella began to feel a bit better about the whole affair. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad as she had first guessed, and it would earn her some standing amongst the company. Hiding easily behind one of the posts of the makeshift pen, she took out one of her throwing knives and began to saw at the disgusting rope. Don’t even question what it was made of, but at least it was manageable enough.

 

 

     While rope was barely an obstacle, getting three trolls to miss their dinner running away from under their noses was a matter more for hopeful wishing. If the ponies had been calmer, she might have managed to ride away on one. As it was, she could hardly blame them for fleeing as fast as possible, and leading the trolls back to camp was hardly a sound move. However, she now neatly had their full attention, and the clearing was blessedly empty of anyone else.

 

     Bella allowed herself a small grin along with the fear that seeing massive trolls running at you with filleting knives brings. Slapping her hands to the dirt, she let the fear and adrenaline funnel into the ground, and watched with relief as the ropes of wicked vines erupted out of the earth around her. Hearing the trolls’ frustrated howls of pain, Bella began laughing triumphantly. Finally, a use for her prickly abilities! The trolls raged around the outside of her living cage, wanting to tear through the vines but not wanting to touch, and getting increasingly frustrated with what this strange creature was. Could they eat her? Were there more? Though she tried to put on a brave front, the questions sent a shiver down her spine.

 

     Then the knives came out. Never say trolls are completely vacant. Bella tried to keep calm as she saw gaps appearing in her shelter. Huddling down, she dug into herself again and began to quietly, slowly push vines up out of the earth behind the trolls, forming another ring around the one encompassing her. It left her feeling exhausted. Using the last of her energy, she urged her small grass blades to push themselves from the soil, spreading out to her outer ring of vine walls. The trolls’ anguished howls were the last things she heard.

 

 

 


	5. Hobbit Tactical Warfare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Trolls! The Trolls! But not as we know them... Plus, the heartwarming Bofur speech a wee bit early.

   

      It was so loud, people shouting everywhere. And she was wet... Why was she wet?

     Blearily, Bella opened her eyes to a meeting of hats. The peaked tower of Gandalf’s hat stabbed through her field of vision, colliding with the soft brown hat perched atop Bofur’s head. Gandalf’s bright eyes glittered down at her and the miner’s grin split his face. They helped her sit up and Bofur spoke softly. “I’m glad ye woke up lassie, we were right worried about you there for a while.”

 

          “Why… why is my face all wet?” Bella asked. “Was I crying?”

 

     Bofur’s eyes darkened with anger, and it looked strange on his face. “No, that’d be due to the _wisdom_ of our dear leader.” He glared at Thorin, who was off glowering at the edge of the group, as per usual. “He splashed you with a bowl of water to help rouse you.”

 

          “And I still fail to see what the upset is about! It woke her, did it not?” Thorin huffed.

 

     Bella waved the impending argument off with a sense of urgency. “Just forget about it. What happened? The trolls…” she broke off, suddenly panicked. “There were trolls! We have to get away, there were three of them, massive creatures! And the ponies, I managed to get the ponies loose but then they caught sight of me, I didn’t want them finding camp, I -”

 

          “Hush Bella, the trolls are quite taken care of.” Gandalf soothed with a staying hand on her shoulder and a smirk. And what was so funny? Looking around for some sort of clue, Bella was met with the wide eyes of Fili and Kili, her thorn walls rising to the sky behind them. Oh bother. 

 

               “Bella!” Kili almost shouted in his excitement. “That was… how did you do that? That was you doing all that, right?”

 

          “Of course it was her, who else would it have been?” Fili argued

 

               “Well yeah but, I’ve never seen anything like it before. It was incredible!”

 

     Bella just sighed. “If someone could please tell me what exactly happened, I would be most appreciative.”

 

 

                The other end of the story was quickly laid out in short order. After sending her along, the brothers had a rare moment of clarity and rushed back to camp to inform the others that they had sent the tiny hobbit off to battle an unknown amount of trolls. They had set out as a group back to rescue her, but had been delayed by the arrival of the panicked ponies. Being young and impatient, Fili and Kili had run ahead, and as such were the only ones to witness what they now referred to as ‘Hobbit tactical warfare’.

 

      The rest of the company arrived and did not even notice where Bella was an unconscious heap upon the ground, being otherwise occupied with hiding from three berserk trolls. Her vines and grass had done their job, the vines containing them and the grass keeping them otherwise occupied enough to not hack the vines down. The sun had risen and finished them off before any further action was required. Then Gandalf had shown up and along with Bofur, Fili, and Kili, had gotten her out of the middle of her deathtrap. Then she had woken up, and here they all stood.

 

 

     Bella could see the trolls now, hunks of stone wrapped about with vines. They almost looked a part of the landscape, less threatening in the stillness of death. Ori had set up shop and was madly sketching the entire scene down into one of her many tomes for chronicling the quest, while Nori had slipped between the barbed barriers and was climbing up one of the trolls to inspect it up close.

 

 

     One could set a clock by the amount of time it took Dori to come bustling over, admonishing Nori for being reckless, and attempting to bundle Ori away from the scene as quickly as possible. Bella couldn't help but smile though as she saw the spy slip his younger sibling what was clearly a (now stone) troll's tooth behind Dori's back. The beaming smile and hug he recieved in return made her feel like she was intruding on a private moment, and Bella was glad for the distraction Gandalf offered. His logical assumption of a nearby troll cave quickly shifted the group’s interest away from the spectacle she had caused as well, but she knew explaining would have to come at some point.

 

      Grateful that Kili was enamored with the new mystery and had already bounded off ahead of the group, Bella accepted Bofur’s help up, and his continued help when she proved to be rather lightheaded still. As she got her footing, Bella could hear Thorin grumbling to Gandalf, unaware of her sharp ears. He still wasn’t happy with her, the words ‘reckless’ and ‘foolish’ being thrown out. Sighing, she turned her head to Bofur as he carefully helped her along the rocks after the group. “I still cannot understand why you lot are nice to me, or why I’m even still here,” she said in a conversational tone, avoiding looking up as she felt Bofur staring at her.

 

 

           “Now, I must say I take a bit o’ offense at that statement, Miss Baggins.”

 

 

     She did look up at that, to find kind eyes watching her. He elaborated. “I understand where the feeling is coming from, but ye cann’a discount the whole lot o’ us just because there are a few surly folks. Ya surely are a part of the Company, further proven by that stunt just now.” He tossed a thumb towards the clearing. “A persons uncaring of the welfare of the rest o’ us would have cut n run straight back to camp, getting their escape while the trolls were busy tangling with everyone else.” 

 

          “But you did no such thing. Not only did you rescue the ponies, but you kept all the rest of us safe, at your own personal cost.” Bofur fell silent for a moment as he helped her around a particularly tricky bit of rocks, before continuing.

 

          “You know, I overheard a rather lovely bit o’ statement the first night I met you, when we were all having a jovial respite at your home.” Bella chuckled at his choice of words, and he threw her a quick wink. 

 

          "Our esteemed leader was standing in the hallway, and he said that he would take any one of the members o’ this company over a whole army, because they had honor, loyalty, and a willing heart, that he could ask no more than that.”

 

     Bofur put his arm tight around the wee hobbit by his side. “I knew from when I first met ye, and have been proven right many times since, that you have all of those things in spades. I cann’a tell you why Thorin acts the way he does, but in his own counsel he has refused to see the truth o’ you. And he is being a right difficult individual to deal with. It’s up to you where you go, but whatever path you take from here, I wish ya all the luck in the world lassie.”

 

     With a final smile, Bofur released her and trailed after Nori down into the putrid troll cave. Bella stayed outside away from the stench and dried her face of the wetness that was most definitely from Thorin splashing her and not tears. Involved in her own moment, she hadn’t realized anyone else was in hearing distance, and completely missed the gaze that lingered on her even as Gandalf ushered Thorin down into the foul dark.

 

 

 

     The tall wizard smiled to himself as he watched the dwarves bustling around inside the dim cave. He was quite happy with how the quest was going so far, and most pleased with how Bella was getting along in the company. While the trolls had been a fluke (and perhaps a slight misstep on his part, though you would never hear such from him), they did have the unexpected benefit of giving Bella a chance to reveal some of her hobbit secrets, and prove herself all at once.

 

     She was starting to grow into the role that he could see she had the ability to fill, and most of the company had heartily accepted her into their midst. And while not everything was going as expected, the parts of her impact that not even he could have predicted were altogether rather happy ones. His grin turned into a smirk as he watched the exiled king sulk around a rotten barrel of weaponry. Gandalf decided the day was going rather splendidly as he exited the cave and gifted Bella with the Elvish blade just the right size for her, and he chuckled to himself as he tucked its smaller twin into the folds of his robe. He did love surprises.

 

 

 


	6. Dwarves are terrible assasins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Radagast makes an appearance, Rivendell is reached, and the burglar continues to surprise her company.

     The sword seemed a grim gift, but fitting enough considering she had just battled trolls. And she would not deny, it felt good to have something besides her throwing knives on hand. Bella took Gandalf’s advice along with the blade, and was just looking up into the canopy and thinking wistfully that it was about time for second breakfast when the interruption came.

 

     The second wizard's arrival was fantastical to say the least, and caused no small amount of uproar. Dwalin and Gloin nearly beheaded the stout figure, and Kili hid his face in embarrassment after realizing that the large brown conies were not in fact Wargs. While most of the dwarves appeared to regard Radagast with varying levels of disgust, Bella found him rather intriguing, as she had thought she might. Overlooking the bird poop, he seemed a rather kind old soul, with timeless eyes and a way of speaking of all things as if they were on the same level, a trait that she figured wizards must share. Bella didn’t understand what the two were discussing, but it certainly did not sound like anything good.

 

     Gandalf, in her experience, was usually either the cause or the participant of most important events. Maybe that’s part of the reason she came along. This quest was sure to become the stuff of stories, songs, and history scrolls, and Bella had always had a fascination with all three. Not to mention living the thing in real life was far better than reading it out of a book. Not the would ever tell Gandalf so. He may have been right about the world and where it lay, but his ego didn't need any encouragement on her part. Bella sighed as she thought of her home and books, and in turn her dear niece. Ro would have been delighted with the oddball new wizard and the way he pulled insects off his tongue. She would have thrilled at every step of the journey, trolls or no. Bella would definitely have to write it all down for her when she got back home. If she got back...

 

 

     The Wargs had been a violent surprise. An awful and most unwelcome surprise. Bella hated surprises. When Radagast said he would draw the hunting party off, everyone including Gandalf seemed to doubt his ability. Bella had complete faith in his rabbits, and she wanted to go with him. Anything faster than her own short legs. But no, they had opted for the worst game of hide and seek ever played. As they ran from rock to rock, Bella could feel her wings itching underneath her skin, begging her to fly, get away, danger!

 

     But she would not leave the rest of the group to this fate. Also, she had no idea where to flee to anyway. Running behind a wizard is better than flying solo. Her loyalty was being sorely tested though after Kili and the group showcased how to kill an enemy in the _loudest way possible_ , and then the rest of the pack was truly on their trail. She had never been so happy to fling herself down into empty space before, even if the sensation of falling without her wings to steady her was terrifying.

 

 

     It was extraordinary how the foul tempers of a day could be cast off so suddenly. With the first sight of Rivendell, Bella felt her tiredness and fear easing away. The valley seemed to sing with life and peace, reminding her of the Shire so sharply that it was a physical pain in her chest. Even if she felt she didn’t belong there, it was still the only home she had ever known, and to miss it was second nature.

 

     Pointedly ignoring the warnings and hostility of those around her, Bella just took it all in. That was probably why she saw the elves full minutes before the dwarves did, grumbling at Bofur pulling her back into the group. She appreciated the concern, really, but maybe more when there were actual enemies instead of elves? They were her distant cousins, a bit vain perhaps, but harmless enough to those who posed them no harm in the first place. She listened on happily as Gandalf and Elrond exchanged greetings, sighing in contentment. It had been years since she had heard the silken flow of Sindarin, and it brought back many happy memories.

 

     She snorted when the dwarves riled at Elrond's speech, and before their pigheadedness could cause any further ruckus, Bella announced loudly, “No, you dolts, he’s offering us dinner, shelter, and other comforts besides. I’m not sure about you, but I for one am rather starved, considering I haven’t eaten since before the trolls, and I fully intend to take whatever hospitality is being offered.”

 

     Sniffing, she pushed her way past a startled Bofur and Fili, being caught up at once in the attentions of a gaggle of elven ladies who offered to help get her properly cleaned up before dinner. Elrond watched her pass into his hall with raised eyebrows and a small smirk, before he turned to speak further with Gandalf, dissaopearing down yet another pillared walkway. 

 

 

     Thorin stood shell-shocked in the middle of the group, not even bothering to sulk at the poorly concealed mirth of Elrond and Gandalf.

 

     “Did you know she spoke elvish?” Dwalin asked, looking around. They all shook their heads.

 

     “I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised though,” Bofur said. “She’s done just about everything we never expected her to. At this rate, I don’t think I’ll be betting against her anymore, or I’ll ‘ave lost my share of the dragon’s hoard before we even win it.”

 

     The discussion slowly broke up after that, and they all followed Gandalf to the feast.

 

 

 

     Being clean was fantastic. The elves had whisked her off to the baths, and she had taken as long as she could to scrub the mud and troll filth and horse hair from every inch of her skin. The special herbal hair potions wreathed her in fresh scents, and when she emerged a clean set of elvish garments had been laid out for her. She reveled in the soft wool and silk, and sighed as one of the ladies, Ayala, helped to comb her hair out. Feeling transformed and infinitely better, she cheerfully followed her guide to the feast.

 

 

     Thorin did not like being in Rivendell. Though these elves were not Thranduil’s kin (and he could recognize that, thank you very much), and he had no real reason to feel animosity towards them, the urge to leave immediately was still there.

 

     He did not know that the hobbit could speak Elvish, and it made him feel unsettled. Would she betray their quest to the tree-shaggers? Why did she get on with them so well, when she seemed ill at ease around him and the rest of the company? Thorin had an overwhelming suspicion that their burglar might be in league with the elves, and it simply would not do. They hadn’t even seen her since the elves had stolen her, who knew what sort of deeds might be taking place?

 

     They had all been seated at two tables beneath the one at which Elrond sat with Gandalf, and the dinner had gotten well under way, most of the Company complaining loudly about whether leaves were actually edible. Brooding into his plate of mushroom gravy and hot rolls, Thorin attempted to block out the grievances echoing around him. He thought he was doing a rather marvelous job, until he looked up and realized that everyone had in fact just stopped speaking.

 

     Bofur, Fili, Kili, and Nori were all staring back at some point past his head, and the rest of the dwarves were whispering to each other. Something was right behind him. Why was it always behind him? Fearing some sort of elven ambush, he quickly whipped his head around before breathing a sigh of relief.

 

     It was just the Halfling. She was still surrounded by elves, he would have missed her completely if not for the size difference. The elven clothes looked… similar to her usual attire, if a bit finer in quality and occasion. The green tunic and soft brown leggings were form fitting, and she cut the figure of a confident warrior. But the sword strapped to her side was at odds with her open and cheerful face. Nodding several times more to the elves and saying a few last words, she turned and joined their gathering, settling down between Fili and Kili. Rolling his eyes, Thorin tried his best to return to his previous task of being deaf and ignore them; nothing good could come of such a trio.

 

 

 


	7. History Lesson

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An Unexpected Guest arrives, and Bella has more than a bit of explaining to do.

     The cuisine was even better than Bella remembered from her youth, and her under-grazed appetite dug in with abandon. Several coin bags were tossed about as she filled her fifth or sixth plate, but by now she had grown used to it and just smiled as she devoured another sweet dumpling, the good food and elvish music cheering her. She chuckled along with everyone else when Dwalin caught Kili mooning over their elvish servers, but privately she thought he could do a lot worse than an elvish lady, no matter what ogreish views his uncle held. Dinner was being wrapped up with the failing light, and the group was gathering to be led to their rooms when a disturbance started up down the hall.

 

     Still on edge, several of the group ran over to the balcony that looked down to the bridge, and Bella followed, her curiosity winning over. She peered through the railing just in time to see a familiar rabbit-sled pulling into the courtyard. Radagast! Perhaps he would be staying for a time; she really would like to talk to him… Deciding her mind, she set off down the stairs, hearing several pairs of heavy boots clatter after.

 

     By the time they had gathered in the yard, the light had fled completely from the valley, and lanterns had been lit all along the buildings. Radagast was standing near the edge of the pavers, his rabbits grazing behind him, and next to him was… a fox. Bella froze. She really hoped this wasn’t what it was, but her heart sank as she saw the ears swivel forward. Bracing herself, Bella opened her arms as the ball of fur came flying towards her, wincing as a screeching howl escaped in the creature’s excitement.

 

     Behind her, the group erupted into chaos. “What in Mahal’s name was that?!” Ori squeaked as he was pushed behind Dori and Nori for protection.

 

          “It’s got Bella!” Kili yelled, scrambling for his bow as Fili drew a sword. They began rushing towards her rescue, only to be soundly tripped by a staff.

 

          “Enough!” Gandalf bellowed, halting all movement within the square. All except the fox that was enthusiastically attempting to bowl Bella over. She was laughing despite her determination to be angry. “Ok, ok, enough! I am happy to see you as well, but do not think it will save you from my anger. You should not be here.” She really did try to sound stern, but the pathetic whining was doing a number on her resolve.

 

     The dwarrow were lost. Everyone else seemed to know what was going on, but they were left in a muddle. “Why is she talking to it?” “Does she know animal languages too?”

 

     Finally taking notice of the silence around her, Bella looked back to where the dwarves stood in a forlorn group, hedged in by Gandalf’s staff. “Oh dear,” she sighed. “This really is going to be a long night for all the telling.”

 

     Looking down at the fox that came up to her chest, she said grudgingly, “You best shift for all of this; I am _not_ going to get stuck sorting this out by myself. And you have some explanations of your own to make.” 

 

     The creature seemed to shrink in on itself for a moment, before hopping slightly onto its back legs and shifting until a copper haired hobbit lass stood in its place. Looking at her aunt with a grim smile, Rowan said, “I hope you realize I shan’t be apologizing for any of it. You should learn to stop attempting to leave me out of things.”

 

     “Wha?” Kili looked as if his entire life so far had been a lie. Maybe he wasn’t even a dwarf, perhaps he was some sort of miniature elf. The rest of the group seemed to be in similar disorder, Thorin looking thunderous and confused. Bofur, for his part, just looked ridiculously happy.

 

     Hanging her head, Bella began to move back past the group. “Come on then you lot, might as well get comfortable for this story, it’ll take a while to get through.”

 

     She could hear Gandalf and Radagast tittering happily behind her, and she spun to fix them both with a glare. “Don’t think you’re getting out of this either!” She pointed accusingly at the robed duo. “I know the two of you had some part in her getting here, and we will have words later.”

 

     For their part, the two wizards did manage to look slightly ashamed.

 

 

 

     Bella refused to say a word until everyone was settled in. They had set up an impromptu theater in the small courtyard connecting their block of rooms, complete with a barrel of ale and piles of ‘borrowed’ pillows and blankets. When there was no more putting it off, she started with a sigh of enormous proportions. She really was never going to be rid of that habit after this adventure.

 

          “I’m going to go about this a bit backwards, if only to cover everything sufficiently. First off, I know many of you still had questions about the troll incident, and you most assuredly deserve answers, as concealment was never my intention.”

 

     Bella fought off another sigh. “The best place to start is to give a small lesson in the ways of hobbits. Understand that if most of this sounds unbelievable, it is because such knowledge is not easily shared outside of our own race. Just as dwarves have many traditions kept close within your mountains, so too do hobbits.”

 

          “At birth, every hobbit is born with what is called our earth-sense. These are gifts of growing given to us by our maker, to aid us in our lives and to remind us of our roots. This is what you saw evidence of in the clearing with the trolls. While the exact breadth of an individuals powers is widely variable, for most, this gift takes on a more… domestic nature. But I, as in many things, am of a more unconventional style.”

 

     Bella glanced down to see her niece looking at her with excitement. Smiling, she gave a small nod, and watched as Rowan gently placed her hand against the pavers. Scrunching her face in concentration, Ro chuckled in triumph a few moments later as moss and ferns pushed up through the cracks, creating a miniature forest glen. The younger members of the group looked delighted, while the older warriors attempted to not be impressed and a bit freaked out, in the case of Dwalin. Bella toed the soil at the edge of the patio, urging her own vines to rise up and wrap about the pillars. She couldn’t help but notice the contrast between the two gifts, and how hers was met with a more somber reaction.

 

 

     Coughing, she quickly continued speaking. “Yes, well, that’s one part of hobbit traits. The other is, as you saw earlier, the ability to shift. This is something that must be grown into, manifesting in a hobbit’s younger years. Animal forms have to be tended to and exercised, to develop to their true potential. Hobbits can shift fully, partially, or the form can be completely hidden, if so desired. Most hobbits spend at least part of their time in full form, and the rest in partial form, having a personal pride in what their shift is, and what it says about them.” She paused a moment, considering.

 

 

     She would leave out the part of how it all connected in with their relation to elves, knowing the present company's bearing. Besides, it wasn't really her story to tell. With a breath of relief finished her speech. “And I think that about covers it, or at least is enough to be going on for one night.” Thank Yavanna for small blessings. She needed a drink.

 

     Before she could safely retreat out of the public eye, however, Kili called out the question she had been trying to dodge. “But Bella! What’s your animal form then? We’ve been travelling with you for some time now, but I’ve never seen you shift once.” She really hated how perceptive the young dwarf prince actually was. 

 

     To her surprise, Bella heard Rowan quickly pipe up before she herself could formulate a proper answer. “She doesn’t have one. It sometimes happens, if a hobbit’s growth is disrupted in some way.” Bella couldn’t help but feel a flare of affection for her brazen niece.

 

 

     But she would not hide any longer. This trip required honesty, and she could not hold back something that could be of use to the group. Turning to see the slightly befuddled look on Kili’s face, she braced herself. “Actually, I do. I’ve kept it hidden, always, because it’s highly odd for a hobbit.” She knew her smile was bitter. “I was rather made to stand apart.”

 

     Screwing her eyes shut, Bella pushed her wings out until they were spread fully, hearing the hushed gasps, bracing for the masked (or not so disguised) rejection and disgust.

 

     Nothing happened. Unconsciously, her wings tucked back around her self-consciously as she dared to open her eyes. Many pairs of eyes were on her, but she could find none of the expected emotions. Some of them were watching her wings move in awe, others in undisguised curiosity. Ori had whipped her sketchbook out and was scribbling madly, and Rowan was just looking at her with a sad smile.

 

     “I’m sorry you’ve been hiding for so long. If it helps, I think they are quite beautiful.” Rowan could not have grown up a Baggins without hearing about the misfortune of poor mad old Bella, so strange and tragic, but she had never accepted the gossip as fact. She forgot, sometimes, that her niece was no longer the small child who would come running to her house to escape her siblings, but a rather sharp young woman, capable and kind. When had she grown so old?

 

     She could feel the tears gathering, and willed herself to not be a blathering old dam. Walking quickly to her, she wrapped Ro into a tight hug.

 

 


	8. Danger May Care

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chapter of leisure and fluff. Things will be on the move again soon enough!

     

 

     Things got out of hand rather quickly after that. Riding on the high of truthfulness, Bella started up the drinking in earnest, and somehow found herself in a drinking contest against the dwarves. Bets were placed of course, with Rowan, Bofur, Fili, Ori, Kili, and Nori all backing her, and the rest backing Gloin. Thorin was the only one to not participate in the bet. Or so Bella thought. Balin saw him discreetly placing his own odds, and chuckled.

 

      Ori was the first to cave, being the least accustomed to such things, and both Dori and Nori quit the game to attend to their younger sibling. Nori came back to observe once Ori had been settled. Most of the older dwarves quit while they  were ahead, knowing all too well the sorry state of a morning after and not wanting to be caught so weak in a strange place. Bifur and Bombur drank sparingly, the former remaining quiet in the background and the latter sneaking off to gain some midnight snacks for the group. Bofur quit after his lively performance of ‘Merry Old Inn’, retiring among a rain of salad. Rowan followed soon after, both of them giggling and falling all over themselves and each other, finally collapsing against an upturned table to gossip. Fili and Kili put up a strong front, but ended up passing out against each other in a quiet heap.

 

     Several hours later, it was grudgingly admitted that Bella had won, once Gloin had fallen out, after declaring he went swimming with ‘little hairy women’. Crowing triumphantly, she gloated as the winnings were collected, and then managed to gather herself off to one of the proffered bedrooms, something most of the others failed to do. 

 

     As such, the next morning was a stormy one for the Company. Half the group was sore from sleeping on stone floors or tables, and breakfast was a floundering affair of victims. Bella came bouncing in with a jovial greeting, and was met by winces and grumbling. Fili was muttering something about ‘Confounded hobbit systems”, and both she and Ro had to stifle their smirks. Being a hobbit did allow for many advantages.

 

     Finishing off half the food, Bella gathered up an excited Ori and they shot off towards the very excellent Elven library, already deep into the finer points of poetry. Gandalf came to collect Thorin and Balin to discuss matters with Elrond, and Dwalin accompanied them. Fili and Kili soon scampered off as well, pushing off the woes of the night before as only the youthful could. This left the rest of the company to their own devices, and many of them decided to have a lie in around the small ‘camp’ and enjoy the weather.

 

 

     Bofur stretched out on the sun-warmed stones and plopped his hat over his eyes, planning to enjoy every moment of this day because it did not require any _walking_. The peacefulness of the valley was soothing, and he found it quite easy to relax, had just in fact started to doze, when the brutal sun stabbed through his eyelids. With the quick reflexes borne of a wandering life, he shot up and grabbed ahold of whoever had just _stolen_ his hat, prepared to give Kili a proper tongue-lashing this time.

 

     But his actions were met with a rather high pitched giggle, and Bofur flushed as the term tongue-lashing took on an entirely new meaning in his mind. He quickly let go of Rowan as she sprawled on the floor next to him, and tried to make the sky as interesting as possible. After a moment, Bofur looked back over at the hobbit, wondering why she hadn’t said anything. It was a mistake. She was propped up on her elbows, studying him leisurely, and she was _wearing his hat_. He had never thought of blank spaces so intensely. He heard her laughing, she knew exactly what she was doing, and it was maddening.

 

 

     When Bofur had first set foot in Bag-End, he knew he liked hobbits. Their host had been spunky and fierce for her size, and it had filled him with no end of curiosity. The fact that she hit him only made him like her more. But if he liked hobbits just from meeting Bella, Bofur knew he loved one when he saw Rowan. From her fiery hair to her danger-may-care attitude, she was a blaze to be reckoned with, and he was all too eager to play the role of moth. He had been slightly relieved that she clearly would not be part of their group, if their burglar’s fierce protectiveness had been anything to go by. It would be a comfort to be able to think on her in safety while their journey grew dangerous, as it inevitably would.

 

     If he by some miracle lived through this though, he had promised himself he would go back to that quiet Shire-land and ask after her. It was a long shot from the start of course. She was a beautiful lass, and surely could have her pick of fine hobbit lads. For all he knew, she might have already been pledged to someone.

 

     It was a more than common occurrence for him to hold an interest in those that were already taken. That’s why he had been more than agreeable to join the quest. He had nobody to leave behind, and had decided to seek his fortunes, for the beer was free, and gold and wealth were a temptation to him, as they were for most dwarves. Now though, he felt that if given the time he could come to regard her as all the treasure he would ever need. 

 

     As they had journeyed, he had watched with some amusement as the King grew quickly and regularly flummoxed by their tiny companion. Bofur had thought several times that it was no wonder and no small bit of luck that hobbits were such a secretive folk, or his entire race would have fallen to them long ago.

 

     The amusement had somewhat soured into anger and a protectiveness of his own over Bella, as Thorin proved true to his rough nature. She was of course more than matched to meet him, but Bofur could tell it wore her down, and he did his best to keep her spirits up. That was why he was doubly joyful for Rowan’s appearance in Rivendell, and her assertion that she would not be left. A familiar face lifted Bella’s spirits more than any kind stranger could, and it was wonderful to see them both so happy. Not to mention he was selfishly very chuffed to be able to spend time with Rowan again. Maybe her shameless flirting would have time to develop into something more on the road.

 

     It was probably for the best that he had been through the better part of a barrel of ale before the talking had begun in earnest last night. He hadn’t had time to process the plant and animal thing fully yet, and combined with Rowan’s flirtatious nature he had been left flustered and on unsure footing. That in no way means he did not enjoy it, it was refreshingly blunt compared to the dancing around dwarves usually performed in courtship.

 

     Not to mention she volleyed his lewd jokes right back at him, and wasn’t he surprised to have the tables turned? But even drunk, Bofur was still a dwarf with a respectable standing, not to mention he was far too smart to risk a hobbit’s wrath. However, it seemed a bit of drink (rather a lot of drink, actually) loosened up Shirefolk as well, and Bella wandered off without so much as a cautionary glare in his direction.

 

     He had continued the tipsy conversation with Rowan until the good elven drink took them both, and Bofur had awoken with an armful of hobbit and some uncomfortable developments. If he had to say, it was the best morning after a party he could remember living through.

 

     Which brought him back to the fact that it was a wonderful morning after, and he was wasting the present thinking on the past. Cracking his eye open, Bofur looked across at Rowan. Apparently at ease with the silence, she had her head bent close to the ground, her auburn hair cascading down from where she had tried to cage it behind her ears. Her nose was scrunched up in concentration as she coaxed a tiny, delicate mushroom from the dirt.

 

     It looked exotic, with a thin, delicate stem and a bright blue coloring. Bofur couldn’t help but think she looked right, surrounded by green and growing things. He knew that Gandalf had been spot-on when he said that hobbits were surprising creatures. It had needed a bit of time for the entire reality of them to sink in, but as he allowed it to, things began to click into place.

 

 

     He rolled over onto his side, catching Rowan’s attention. He was staring at her like he had just won a prize for something, and it made her suspicious.

 

          “What?” she asked, eyeing him. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

 

           “Oh, nothing o’ great importance. I just had a question, is all.”

 

          “Well, go ahead then. Goodness knows it’ll be better than having you looking at me with that mischievous face on, who can say where that would lead.” She was slightly put out when he didn’t react to her baiting. He just kept staring.

 

          “So…” Bofur’s smile was quickly growing. “So you were following us the entire time, all the way from The Shire?”

 

          “Basically, yes," she answered, unsure where this was leading. "It took me a bit to catch up, but once I did I kept as close as I could.” Rowan went a bit pink at the admission of being scared and wanting comfort.

 

 

     Her embarrassment was soon discarded though in favor of observing the dwarf's reaction. Bofur had smiled, then began chuckling until it turned into an all-out roar. He lay upon the ground curled up while Ro stared over at him, looking puzzled. Every time he had almost recovered, he looked over at her and began laughing again, until she couldn’t help but smile. His joy was infectious. When he had apparently wasted the vast wealth of his amusement, Bofur sat up and patted his chest. “Sorry I was laughin, I just… I thought I was touched, imagining this little fox followin us everywhere. But that was you then, that I saw fall right into that stream. And trying to chase a rabbit down its hole and gettin stuck halfway in. And you that I caught sleepin in camp and then stealin Nori’s things.” Rowan went beet red, and suddenly remembered something that required all of her attention on some distant part of the very small camp. Bofur began laughing all over again as she beat a hasty retreat.

 

 

 


	9. Reason to Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sort of fluffy filler chapter. I like to utilize the time spent in Rivendell.

 

 

     It wasn’t until Fili and Kili pointed it out that Bofur realized that Rowan really had disappeared. They had just returned from whatever mischief they had spent the day achieving, and had begun asking after the young lass. Bella and the rest had not yet returned, and Bofur felt a vague panic that he had managed to lose her niece. He did feel responsible for her after all. A sudden girlish scream from Kili and a slightly less girlish one from Fili had the rest of the camp jumping up, scrambling for weapons half-forgotten in the lazy day. Bofur wondered if he would manage to lose Bella’s niece and both the crown princes in one day, and made a promise to drink a lot more that night.

 

     By the time he got down the stairs though, girlish screams had turned into childish laughter. He stumbled to a halt and looked on as a small red fox assaulted the btothers, efficiently finding and demolishing every sausage link and roll that the boys had hidden under their coats. Satisfied at a job completed, the creature nimbly leapt off of them and sat nearby, licking her lips and watching the proceedings keenly. Wordlessly hashing out a plan, Fili and Kili moved as one with a roar, honor-bent on avenging their snack. Rowan waited calmly for the rush, and then slipped fluidly to the side as the dwarrow careened head-first into a row of shrubbery. Bofur was in stitches, but the boys were determined to catch her, spurred on by a strange chattering sound that the small creature had started.  

 

     She continued to lead the two in an intricate dance, until Fili managed to get on the opposite side from her as Kili was, with a wall hemming her in from the back. The brothers shared matching wolfish grins. They had her now. And in confidence lies error. Rowan timed it with the perfection of reflex and practice.

 

     Both boys had leapt in unison, and realized halfway through their lunge that there was no longer a fox for them to tackle. She had leapt straight up into the air and then used Fili’s back as a launching board, sending him into an awkward turn. He landed on his back, winded, and then had Kili on top of him before he could learn to breathe again. As the brothers lay in a battered pile, a fox calmly trotted back to the camp, nestling down on top of Bofur’s blanket like a dragon that had just won a hoard. Bofur was really starting to like this Rivendell place.

 

 

     When Thorin and his companions returned for dinner that night, it was to find his nephews in a miserable state. They were draped over each other, sporting scuffs and moaning to anyone who would lend half an ear. He would have been more concerned, had he not known their backward tendency to be dramatic over nothing, and to downplay serious occasions. Still, he was curious as to what happened. If it had been elves that had done such a thing, he would gladly get retribution. Absently taking the bowl of soup Bombur handed him, Thorin sat back from the group, finally noticing that Bofur was looking over at his pathetic nephews and chuckling. Maybe it hadn’t been so dire then.

 

     Once he had finished dinner, Thorin cornered the toymaker. Not that it was that hard to do so, considering that Bofur hadn’t moved in all the time he had been back. Bofur looked up at him easily, a grin on his face that spoke of already being several pints in.

 

     Thorin sighed inwardly. He _had_ promised the beer would be free. As soon as it was clear what he was inquiring about, Bofur was all too happy to recount the tale, his story backed by the fox that had suddenly appeared in the blankets next to him and did most definitely not startle Thorin at all.

 

     So that was how it was then. He was interested despite himself in seeing how Bofur fared through it all. The older hobbit seemed rather protective of her younger counterpart, and seeing as she had already attacked Bofur several times (That tale had been told to him often, with greater levels of relish every time) he didn’t know how much more blacklisted the dwarf could become and remain in one piece.

 

     And thinking on it, where was Bella? Surely if she had known, the two would not be resting so comfortably. Feeling rather tired with the whole day, he ended the conversation with a noncommittal grunt and retired to his bedroll, and did not look for the burglar at all. Not even a glance. He was just checking for sneaky spying elves, that was all.

 

 

     It was just as well that Thorin didn’t look for Bella, because he most certainly would have had a difficult time of it, and would have in fact had to ask elves for help in finding her. She and Ori had spent a fantastic day in the library, soaking up all the poems, legends, and histories they could get their hands on. The elves, being lovers of all knowledge, were only too glad to help, and looked upon their guests much more kindly for the few scholarly types in their group.

 

     The pair of small travelers had grown on them so much in fact, that they invited them to share in another dinner, despite the rude behavior exhibited the night before. Free from her overbearing brothers and the judgment of the Company, Ori gladly dug into the vegetables and salads right alongside Bella, and the elves smiled at each other over their heads, thinking that maybe strange guests were not so bad after all.

 

     After dinner, the elves offered a tour around the various gardens and yards. Bella eagerly accepted, and delighted their hosts with her knowledge of plants. It was rare for hobbits to get to spend time with elves, but they truly were kindred spirits. Ori just seemed happy to be included, and said so as they walked back towards where the rest of the company was loudly hosting a meal of their own.

 

          “I just wanted to thank you again, Miss Baggins, for taking me along with you today. I really had a lovely time.” Her smile was genuine.

 

          “Just Bella, please. And you’re quite welcome. I can’t imagine you get much time to yourself after all.” The girl ducked her head shyly, and Bella couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for the yound dwarf. Ori really did seem to be suppressed by being in such a large, rowdy group, and it was evident in the fact that Bella seemed to be the only one besides Ori’s brothers that even realized that she was actually a girl.

 

     She had begged Bella to not bring it up, saying that it was better the longer it took everyone to catch on, given that most of the older warriors would look down on a young dwarrowdam being risked on such a dangerous journey, and that the Durin brothers would likely never leave her alone once they found out.

 

     Bella had been rather annoyed at the women being looked down upon part, until Ori had explained it was less to do with a gender’s ability, and more to do with the rarity of their existence in dwarf culture at all. She supposed she could understand that a bit better, but Bella still knew she would be having words with anyone that tried to argue when the point did finally come up. In either case, Ori seemed to be cheered by the presence of now two other ladies on the trip, even if they were of a different race. And they were only too glad to fill that role. Bella had a feeling they would give the dwarrow reason to fear, before the end of this adventure.

 

 

 


	10. Dwarvish Idiocy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry I haven't updated in so long! I started a writing challenge and then didn't finish it and just sort of.... wandered off. I blame Attack On Titan, though really there's no excuse for fic abandonment. Anywho, here's the next chapter! Bit more action than last time.

     If they would never admit it outright, the majority of the group at least seemed to look upon the abandonment of Rivendell’s comforts with a small bit of regret. They had packed provisions, and Bella had insisted upon putting as much lembas bread as possible into her and Ro’s bags. She had even snuck several packages of it into Ori’s satchel, knowing that it would be needed before the end of their journey, despite the strong negative opinion of it held by the dwarves. Most of the rest had gone about preparation in… well, what she fondly called ‘dwarvish idiocy’.

 

     Bombur at least was smart, and had convinced Nori to filch as many spices as he could from the kitchen, as well as a small bag of salt. Fili and Kili had stuffed their bags full of bacon and bread rolls. Bella knew that the meats would be gone within two days, and the bread would fall victim to the first jarring hikes and rain. The rest were saved from complete ruin by Balin’s sensible insistence upon cram and cured sausage, things that would at least keep and hold up to hard travel.

 

     As it was, her fears proved to be somewhat unfounded. They had a few days comfortable travel before the worst of the mountains, and the brothers at least seemed happy to share in the wealth of their packs. It may have been done out of the selfish desire to lighten their loads, though if they could also achieve camp cheer in the same swoop, all the better.

 

 

     While the traveling was pleasant, and she would surely not complain and ruin the luck, Bella did desperately wish for something to occupy her. She had all too much time to think, and thinking was the last thing she wanted to do, after the drama she had been involved with the last few days. It had started on their last night in Rivendell. In she had walked, all of a relaxed nature after a rigorously academic day, only to be slightly thrown by the sight of camp. Fili and Kili were in a senseless pile of adolescent pliancy, and Bella wondered if the drinking had been taken up again. She thought she must be right when she heard the familiar sound of drunken snoring.

 

     She looked over to where Bofur lay, and of course it was him. While he didn’t match in quantity imbibed at once, he did seem to triumph in the art of balancing upon the edge of drunkenness on a near constant basis.  She sighed and left him cuddled around his blanket, felt kind enough to throw a spare one over the brothers, and decided she would ask on it in the morning.

 

     But the morning had been filled with the bustle of leaving (fleeing, if Thorin was to be believed in his fit of Royal Declaration). She never got to ask anything regarding the night previous, the brother’s complaining, or where in Arda Rowan had been. She felt a bit guilty that she hadn’t realized her niece had been missing until she had popped up at breakfast, vibrantly energized. But really, what was the worst she could get up to in Rivendell?

 

     The curiosity was replaced with worry over food stocks and proper armament for mountain weather as they walked the daylight off. She had gotten quite more of an answer that she anticipated when she had set up Ro’s bedroll next to hers, only to find her niece missing, and Bofur cuddling what she realized was _not_ a rust colored blanket. She had been ready to throw the camp into uproar, but most everyone had gone to bed already, and the last thing she wanted was to be groused at by sleep-deprived dwarves. So she huffed and puffed to herself, and swore that words would be had after breakfast.

 

 

     While it is oft argued that luck no longer exists in the world, it is in fact more often just a small kind of luck, and the world today has grown so greedy and demanding that we take it as commonplace instead of being grateful for it. But in the days of old when our tale takes place, such small bits of luck were still considered very great indeed. Bofur had one such bit of luck on a rather misty morning, and was very glad indeed that he managed to awake early, beg a quick breakfast from his brother, and be sent ahead scouting with Kili, all before Bella had woken.

 

     He might have felt a tad guilty for so eagerly abandoning the lass to face her aunt alone, but he had also been dealt justice at those small hands often enough for one trip, thank ye kindly. Besides, she was more accustomed to dealing with such things anyhow, he was a simple dwarf and did not understand the workings of hobbits enough to be getting on with such a fuss.

 

     He was clever enough to  know trouble when it came though, and he had not been quite asleep the night before when the tiny woman began her growling and stomping. He was prepared for her to wake the entire camp in her rage, but she had subsided for the night, and he thought himself very fortunate indeed to be handed two bits of luck so close together.

 

 

                            ~   ~   ~

 

 

     Rubbing his forehead wearily, Thorin hoped that the arguing would cease soon, or he… well, he would do nothing, and certainly would not interfere, or tempt the same fate as Fili. The boy had meant well, trying to fall back and offer the hobbits a share of his rolls and rashers for lunch in an attempt to break the bickering that had been going strong since that morning. For his troubles, the Crown Prince had gotten a tongue lashing the likes of which had not been seen since the ‘Beard and Tar’ incident, at the hands of his mother.

 

     Afterwards, the tiny creatures had been given a wide berth like that of a plague, and were left to do as they pleased at the very back of the group. Thorin had focused on the rising terrain they were faced with, and wished again for some blessed silence. Or maybe to be struck deaf. Anything along that spectrum. When Thorin called the group to a halt for the night at the edge of the treeline, before the mountain began in earnest, there still seemed to be no conceivable end to the fight.

 

     For Mahal’s sake, he hardly even knew what the argument was about, though he could guess by Bofur’s guilty glances and the fierceness that had been ringing in the younger hobbit’s voice all day. Love was a strong thing in all races, apparently. And a pox on it, was his opinion.

 

     Deciding enough was enough, he marched directly over to the burglar and pulled her off into the trees without a word, leaving the younger staring after him gobsmacked. Enjoying the silence already, he let go of the hobbit’s arm, deciding they were far enough from the group to be private. Before he could turn around though, Thorin got soundly cuffed across the back of the head with something solid. Turning in disbelief, he looked down at the smaller woman, whose wings were tucked neatly behind her, a look of indignant anger gracing her features.

 

           “Who gave you the right to just drag me off into the woods willy nilly, like some sort of barbarian? What are we even doing out here?”

 

     Thorin grated his teeth and took a deep breath. “I am not a barbarian, and I ‘dragged’ you out here so that we might talk alone. I had thought to save your propriety by avoiding a public reprimand.”

 

     The hobbit seemed distinctly unimpressed. “Reprimand for what? What have I done wrong?”

 

          “Because you haven’t stopped arguing all day, that’s what!” he stopped to take a deep breath and calm himself. Privacy would do no good if he could be heard yelling for a mile around.

 

     Bella just huffed. “Well, excuse my manners, I was simply trying to talk my young and impressionable niece out of some impromptu and nonsensical affair with one of your dwarves! Perhaps if they were more well-versed in the proper rituals of courting, there wouldn’t be an issue!”

 

      Thorin was seething. His voice was deceptively quiet as he replied in even tones, “And what, pray tell, are you suggesting about my people, Miss Baggins? Do you mean to scuff upon our honor, imply that we are no better than thoughtless beasts?” He felt a strange mix of guilt and satisfaction when she paled slightly. Not that it lasted long.

 

          “I meant nothing of the sort, Master Oakenshield,” she retorted, all cool business. “I apologize if there was any misunderstanding. I will however, make it perfectly clear, that if my niece’s reputation is in any way… diminished, by any member of your group, I will not hesitate to seek the proper recompense.” She looked up at him from under her lashes, and it was pure steel. Without another word, she turned and began strolling back to camp, as if she were on a late afternoon amble down a country lane, rather than a wild forest far after dark has fallen.

 

     Thorin decided he hated hobbits entirely, with their smooth words and calm demeanors and misleading charms. After standing silently for a few moments so that he would not catch up with the burglar, he grunted to himself and wearily walked back to camp. He needed a hot meal and some good rest to remind him why he was even on this bloody quest.

 

 

 

 


	11. Thunder Battle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I know, I'm so super original with the title. But yeah, no need to really explain what's going on in this chapter. Thorin is like a cat when it comes to rain.

   

 

     Bofur felt guilty, and it had only eaten away at him as the day wore on. Not for Ro, you understand; she clearly was impervious to the abuse. He was highly suspicious that it was another hobbit superpower.

 

     No, mostly he felt guilty for causing such a ruckus and disturbing the rest of the group. And for getting Fili a royal handout for attempting to be a Crown Prince and tackling a job Bofur didn’t have the stones to deal with, even though it was certainly his own issue. And the glare Thorin sent him didn’t help the sinking of his gut. He could barely even choke down dinner. At least there had been a bit of sympathy mixed with the annoyance, and Thorin seemed to be in support of the affair, despite the dramatics. Well, and if Thorin supported him, and most of the rest of the Company seemed at least as amiable or better (Ori and Kili hadn’t caught on yet, but what was new?) then the only obstacle left was Bella.

 

 

     Which is just as equal a statement as saying that the only obstacle left to reclaiming Erebor was an overprotective dragon. He was most assuredly a brave and strong dwarf, but he had been raised properly by a proud dwarrowdam, and he knew the right and wrong of dealing with females of any race.

 

     And Rowan, being a female herself, could apparently see those rules etched out in the sky above her, and succinctly decided to ignore them. Bella had just returned from her ‘meeting’ in the woods (everyone could hear them) and Bofur was trying to both beseech her from afar and disappear completely. She had gone over to her niece and exchanged a few muted words, what could only be a treaty for the moment, but Rowan had turned away without a word, looking like an avenging warrior.

 

     Aule above, she was a sight to behold! Bofur allowed himself to fall into unabashed staring until he realized she was marching straight towards him.

 

     She moved to snuggle up next to him, and he swore he had never moved so fast as he had then. Scrambling backwards, Bofur retreated until an unfortunately placed log vexed his escape plan. Still looking disgruntled, Ro pinned him against the log and snogged him senseless for all the camp to see. If only he could stop worrying about being vanquished from on low and enjoy the moment. Being released finally, he managed to gasp out an unintelligible statement of confusion, which got him a fond knock on the head that also stole his hat. Tugging it over her own unruly curls, Ro flopped down across him before shifting into her fox form, clearly brooking no discussion.

 

     Sighing to himself, Bofur tried to plead silent apology to Bella, who was glaring scorch marks into the log just beside his head. But it’s hard to apologize when you aren’t sorry, and he could never be sorry for a situation that ended so, no matter the discomforts involved. He hadn’t known the lass very long, but he had to admit she was like no other he had ever laid eyes on, and he would very much like to see where this played out, even under as strange of circumstances as they were currently mired in.

 

 

     Sleep came uneasily on the rocky ground, and the next morning found the group reluctantly leaving the protection of the trees to face the mountain in earnest. Hostile feelings were worn down by the difficultly of traversing mountain terrain, and if any energy had been left to fight, the words would have been lost in the increasingly contrary winds stirring amongst the crags.

 

 

                                                                      ~      ~     ~     ~     ~    

 

 

     Thorin had begun to worry, Fili could tell by the way he constantly shifted his sword and chewed on his lower lip. Their mother had said it was a bad habit he had picked up from his father, and Fili sometimes caught Kili imitating the action in times of stress. He was glad that particular Durin family trait had passed him by. As well as the apparent  obtuseness in all situations. Fili had yanked Kili aside that morning after he had almost set the hobbits off again by trying to ask Rowan what she and her aunt had been arguing about. Ori had gotten dragged along too for good measure. He tried to ignore Dwalin’s open laughter when he returned towing the sheepish brunette and muttering about the doomed fate of the line of Durin, but it was a tough job.

 

 

     He did split into a grin though when he saw how Dwalin’s eyes followed the young Ori as she scuttled back to her brothers. Ribbing him in the side, Fili waggled his eyebrows at the warrior. He ducked the swat and brushed off the grumble aimed at him, and danced away chortling merrily, Kili following behind like his shadow of mischief. They subsided into snickering, and moved towards the back of the group before their uncle could snap at them. 

 

     Fili looked on as Kili grew bored in a matter of minutes and went searching for a new victim. Eyes alighting suddenly, the archer deftly scooped up a handful of gravel from the path and began flicking tiny stones at the back of Rowan’s exposed legs. After several moments of being ignored, Kili turned away with a ‘I’m bored out of my mind’ huff. Fili had just enough time to see a twitch of movement from the fiery-haired hobbit before his younger brother let out an undignified yelp. Rubbing the back of his head, he turned and looked at the short woman with wide eyes, turning on his kicked puppy demeanor. Smirking, she fell back to where they were walking and leaned over to him conspiratorially.

 

     “If you’re going to throw stones, you should at least have some skill at it. Want me to teach you how to play conkers?”

 

     Remembering this as being Bella’s supposed weapon of choice, Fili was not far behind his brother in joining in the lesson. And somehow, despite the wind, the conversation had gotten round, because Bofur sidled in soon after, and then Ori. Even Nori discreetly blended into the edge of the group, observing the tactics. So embroiled in the task were they, that the group hardly noticed the steadily dwindling weather until Ori half fell half walked into a deep dip in the path, hidden by the piling snow. Dori had of course managed to get to her before anyone else (despite having been nowhere near the group) and raised a fuss at the lot of them for not being more careful. Looking completely unfazed, Rowan laughed along with Ori at her clumsiness and they drifted back towards the front of the group and Bella. Secretly put out that teaching time was over, the other dwarves fell back into a shambling line.

 

 

 

     Wild weather was a thing Bella loved to experience, but even she had her limits. The very rock around her was alive, and amongst her uneasiness she thought of how the quiet Shire rain wasn’t so bad after all. She tried her best to keep her niece behind her, and felt her heart twist watching half of the group being wrenched away. When she found herself hanging on by a hand, the first thing her mind panicked about was if Ro was still ok. But she caught a glimpse of her face above, and was relieved to see that Bofur had her in an iron grip, caged between himself and the rock face.

 

      Really it wasn’t such a bad place to be, and she felt the theatrics were a bit overmuch. She could easily push herself back up with the help of her wings, and was just about to do so when Thorin intervened. It was nice to be rescued for once, if a bit… close. She realized that his beard smelled like smoke and metal, and that he burned like a furnace, even sopping wet from the rain. The awkward moment was over quickly, and then the yelling started in. Bella largely ignored him, forgiving it away knowing that everyone shouted when they were frightened and even if Thorin didn’t like her personally, he wasn’t so cold that he didn’t care about the well-being of others in general. Plus, he had almost lost his nephews, which she could readily relate to.

 

 

 

     Thorin paced the confines of the cave like a penned bear, steaming in more ways than one. They all knew that the mountains would be a difficult obstacle, but the weather had conspired against them completely, and nobody could be _prepared_ for a thunder battle. The separating and almost death had been understandably upsetting to all, but Fili had thought they got through generally well. You know, once he did in fact know that Kili was alive.

 

       But then ‘the incident’ had happened. He suspected Rowan’s scream had frightened everyone more than the actual experience. Bella herself had seemed disturbingly calm as she was hanging off a cliff face, and Fili knew they could find some good story material in all this after reality had gained some distance. Thorin had swooped in and grabbed their burglar in the nick of time, tucking her between himself and the cliff face. They had all helped pull the two up, and the mood was greatly improved by having the entire group on one level surface.

 

     Until Thorin had dredged up some of his Majestic anger from somewhere, and then snapped at Fili and his brother to find somewhere to spend the night. At least they had happened upon somewhere decent, and that was a relief. Even if a fire wasn’t on the agenda.

 

      Instead, he amused himself by watching his uncle and reflecting on the journey so far. Really, it hadn’t been so bad. The trolls, okay, that was a bit not good, and partially his fault. But he preferred to see it as a… family bonding moment. It had helped their burglar come into her own and prove herself. Really, they should be thanked. And there had been bickering as well, but that’s what families do, right? Even that hadn’t lasted.

 

     He looked over to where Bella was joking quietly with Rowan, Ori, and Bofur. Fili was convinced that Bella had lost much of her anger once she realized how serious her niece was, and she seemed happy for Bofur to just be scared of her. Feeling  content, he decided that despite the rather frenetic dynamic of the group, the tiny stone camp wasn’t going to get any more interesting, and settled in for the night.

 

 


	12. The Iliad of Fili

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili's thoughts on the entire terrifying and ridiculous events in the Goblin Tunnels. He swears to ban singing anywhere in the kingdom when he becomes King.

     

 

     Fili really wished he could be right sometimes. This one time especially. But of course the lovely mountain cave couldn’t just be a boring old cave, it had to be some sort of goblin death trap. One moment it had been peaceful sleeping, and the next he was tumbling down harsh stone and getting his eyes full of sand. The terrifying trip finally halted , and he was glad for the small mercy of Bombur not landing on top of him.

 

     Instead, he got a lap full of hobbit lass and red hair, and Fili fervently hoped Bofur would forgive him. And then of course his personal crisis was rudely interrupted by goblins swarming over everyone and everything. Despite his fear of Bofur, Fili tried to keep a hold of Rowan, if only to have someone to grab onto. But she sank to the floor and somehow the goblins seemed to ignore her.

 

      He found it all very frustrating. As he was dragged away, Fili saw that Bella had avoided notice as well. Damn admirable hobbit superpowers. Maybe at least they could find a way to get them all out of this pinch. And if not, he at least felt a tiny bit better knowing they could be spared such a grim fate. He would just feel much better about it if he were included in that small group.

 

     Faith in their superpowers was short lived. Looking on tensely, Fili sent out a prayer as an especially ugly and mean looking goblin spotted Rowan as it climbed back up over the ledge. Shakily, the hobbit lass pulled out her tiny sword as the creature crept closer. With a snarl, it suddenly lunged. Using both her arms, Rowan gave a mighty swing, and managed to knock the creature away from her and back over into empty space. Fili could have cheered. But it died quickly in his throat as he saw that Rowan had put too much into the swing, and the momentum carried her desperately close to the edge. He caught one last glimpse of the brave hobbit lass and her glowing sword falling into the darkness before he was jerked around a twist in the path.

 

     The Prince's heart was heavy as they were marched further into the depths of the goblin tunnels. Bella apparently had been caught in the ruckus, as Fili snatched a glimpse of her briefly being forced along beside him. He hoped Bofur wouldn’t see her face, because grief was etched all over it. He would know in an instant, and then his rage would get them all killed. Which would be their lot anyway in all likelihood, but Fili liked to imagine that he kept a positive outlook on things. After all, clearly Gandalf hadn’t been captured, and that meant they had some hope. If anyone could manage the situation, it would be the wizard.

 

 

 

 

     The introduction of the goblin leader had been entirely too musical for Fili’s tastes, and he really wished some of the races of Middle Earth were a bit less enthusiastic about joining in on the arts. Then had come the ridiculous accusations, but when were goblins ever sensible? Everyone had seemed eager to keep Thorin away from scrutiny and Bofur tried his hardest to talk them out of capture, for all the good it did. Frustrated, the massive creature had demanded things that most definitely sounded like torture devices to Fili, and bellowed for them to start with the youngest. As the swollen goblin swung about, Fili winced, waiting for the filthy finger of fate to point him out. But the thought of his brother being singled out made his stomach feel like it was full of snow. Then he remembered that Ori looked much younger than them both, and that didn’t improve his spirits much either.

 

     None of them were picked though. Following the line of sight, Fili craned his neck and realized with horror that he was pointing at Bella. Of course she looked like a child amongst them, beardless and wide-eyed. His uncle had been smartly silent throughout, but now Thorin leapt into action. He tore at the restraining holds like a wild beast, yelling and fighting as if he were in the throes of a battle-rage. It took some two dozen goblins to subdue him and drag him to the front. The hero-worship Fili held for his uncle raised another few notches. After the King's display, Bella was all but forgotten in the to-do, and before she could be remembered, Gandalf arrived with his debatable timing and light tricks.

 

 

     Fili was violently relieved when the entire unpleasant business of telling Bofur what had happened to Rowan was rendered a moot point. She had shown up behind them as soon as they had stepped back into the blessed sunlight outside of the goblin tunnels, as if she had never left in the first place. Looking over at Bella, she gave him a nod, and it was silently decided that that was in fact what happened, and nobody else needed to know otherwise. They could corner her and get the whole story later. When everyone was a bit less worried about dying. Much later, Fili realized, as he heard the Warg calls drifting in from behind them.

 

 


	13. Wings of Madness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We have now reached my favorite part thus far! Thorin tries to be his usual badass self and charge Azog, but well, he never was very great at the charging, was he? Anywho, we'll forgive him of his shortcomings, and he'll ask Bella's forgiveness for having to almost die before realizing how awesome she is.

      This couldn’t be real. It just couldn’t, because the big danger she was supposed to face was a dragon, and that was terrifying enough in theory, but it was nothing compared to the very real horror unfolding around her. She had looked behind to see Dori and Ori holding on by nothing but Gandalf’s staff and will, and the rest of the company was in no better straits. They were all stuck on a delicately balanced tree hanging over a cliff dropping down to Aule knows where, with a Orc pack blocking off any hope of escape. A small comfort that Ro was safely perched in the crook of a limb, and how that was any better than their eventual fate she didn’t know. It made a difference though.

 

     Letting out a massive sigh, Bella closed her eyes and attempted to block out any evidence she was soon to perish. She pictured Bag-End, just sitting down to a warm cup of tea and a good book, the wind whispering through an open window. But the ground wasn’t supposed to move.

 

     Wrenching her eyes open, Bella flinched slightly as a large boot passed right by her nose, and the tree quivered with every step Thorin took. He cut a majestic figure, silhouetted against the flames, his oaken shield in hand.

 

     It made Bella want to kick him in the shin and shout in his face. Fool of a dwarf, couldn’t be happy with dangling over his fate, he had to go and walk into a pack of murderous beasts to meet his end. Glory in war and all such valiant prayers. What a load of rubbish.

 

     Sarcasm could only keep the fear at bay for so long though, and Bella didn’t breathe as she watched him charge Azog. She might have screamed when he fell under the beast, but her ears went deaf as she used her wings to help her stumble to her feet, eyes only for the limp form hanging from a Warg’s mouth like so much wet cloth.

 

 

     Of all the emotions to feel, Bella felt unequivocally pissed off as she was completely ignored by the orcs. Once they had actually seen her, the goblins thought she was the ideal leverage; a child, someone the group would seek to protect. But she had gotten away from them (with some help), and she had killed a Warg (quite on accident). She had climbed trees and thrown fire-cones and been generally much braver than any Baggins had a right to be! She was tired of being ignored except when useful, she was through with being underestimated, and it was about time she garnered some attention!

 

 

     She welcomed the rage, knowing that once she had said attention she would only want to be invisible again. Stabbing the axe-wielding orc had been easy, his hideous features and malice leaving her with no guilt. The adrenaline and smugness at the look on Azog’s face served to keep her standing tall, and she broke only when dwarves came yelling into the fray. Quickly turning and grabbing Thorin, she wrapped her wings around them both, and hoped that Ro had more sense than she, and had stayed in the safety of the tree. She also hoped they would all find a way out of this, and then her mind focused down onto a single point as pain lanced through her wings.

 

 

                                                            ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

 

 

Some sense returned to Bella once she realized that something held without hurting, and she could feel the wind and a strange beating sound. Vaguely, she wondered if it was her own heart. She winced as her back bumped into something cool and solid, and all fight left her as her wings were tenderly peeled away. She allowed Thorin to be taken from her, and Bella couldn’t help but whimper as she pulled her wings back into herself. She could still feel the throbbing pain, a bubble that existed somewhere within her back, but at least they would incur no further harm from trampling or jostling.

 

     Wiping her face tiredly, her eyes drifted to where she saw Gandalf crouched over Thorin’s still form. Struggling to stand, her heart began racing, waiting anxiously to see the dwarf's chest rise. Oh Mahal, don’t let him be dead, don’t let all that effort be for naught. Her body relaxed suddenly as Thorin sat up, and Bella felt her legs wobble beneath her. Taking a steadying breath, she teetered a few steps closer, sheltering behind Dwalin’s frame. Thorin was swaying gently, taking in each face in turn, doing a mental count.

 

     “Where is the hobbit?”

 

     Nobody needed to ask which one he meant. His eyes quickly found her where they had ghosted past before. Dwalin moved out of the way, and Bella took a hesitant step forward.

 

     Deciding to pre-empt the conversation, she interjected, “Well, you finally got that knock on the head that Gandalf wanted. Feel any more sensible?” Her fragile humor shattered when the jest was ignored completely. Thorin just continued to stare at her, making her fidget in discomfort. Eventually he spoke.

 

      “I remember. That axe should have fallen, but it didn’t… and then it was all soft darkness.”

 

     Apparently pointing out the obvious is a trait common to the Durin line, Bella thought, recalling some similar statement in her home regarding keys and locks. She kept her humor to herself. Dipping her head and searching the ground, she said, “Well, I owed you one after all. And I couldn’t… I couldn’t just sit and watch. Besides, it wasn’t just me. The others were all there too.” Distantly, she heard the others recount their own versions of the incident, each playing up her part in matters entirely too much. Cutting the babbling off, Thorin simply stated, “I see.”

 

     Stepping forward, he lifted Bella’s chin until she was forced to meet his icy gaze.

 

     “Did I not say you would be a burden? Reckless, impulsive, always seeming to find trouble.”

 

 

     Bella would have been angry, if there was any room for fight left. But she only felt tired and defeated, she was in pain and wanted nothing more than to be alone so she could tend to her own hurts, inside and out. But apparently he was not done, and one didn’t interrupt Kings. Or so she had heard.

 

      “These are all traits that are stubbornly embedded in every dwarf, and myself especially. I owe you many apologies, Bella, and so much more.”

 

     The words took a moment to stick, and by the time she realized what was happening, Bella was being pulled into a crushing embrace, one that caused her face to screw up as she attempted to keep a whimper in. Her brand of luck that she finally got some acceptance and recognition, and it had to be marred by stupid injuries. Blast orcs and wargs. And her own traitorous body. While she had managed to keep the noise down, her face had given her away. Ro, Bofur, and Fili had all converged on her at once, fussing and trying to get her to let them see, while Thorin just stood with a shocked look as she was dragged away.

 

 

                                                                  ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

 

 

     The argument over the general health of Bella Baggins was a fierce one, and it ended with both parties being only mildly satisfied. She had fought back stubbornly, insisting that it was fine, she was fine, could everyone just let her be? Her plan might have worked better if anyone else had more than minor injuries that needed attending, and if the back of her shirt hadn’t been stained with growing patches of blood. Apparently she had been cut on her vulnerable back as well as her wings, though no one needed to know about those. She had eventually staved them off with promises to let them tend to her once they got off the Carrock, with Thorin being presented as the more crucial patient.

 

      Fortunately, the wound from his head getting knocked was more superficial than anything, thick dwarven skulls proving their mettle. The punctures and bruising from the Warg were properly looked after, and he had suffered no further injury, thanks to Bella (or so Oin proclaimed. Bella had her money on his thick armor). The rest of the group then agreed it would be best to get to the bottom of the Carrock as soon as possible, because the forest would be a much kinder camp than the barren rock. Their continued glances at Bella had her very suspicious of their motives.

 

     The journey down had been rather dull, but it did give Bella time to formulate a plan. More than anything, she wanted to be able to clean herself of blood and the lingering thoughts of that entire ordeal, and to be left alone to see to her injuries herself. She hated being fussed over, it only brought up memories of her parents always doing so. And she was well versed in Shire healing, the cuts shouldn’t be anything beyond her abilities.

 

     And so, while she felt terribly guilty for it, as soon as her feet touched the soft soil of the ground, she used the unmatched stealth of hobbits to silently slip away into the trees. Moving quickly, Bella followed the sound of running water until she came to a clear stream. Following it along, she finally found a relatively sheltered pool that had formed up under the edge of a boulder, and gladly began to strip her soiled clothing off, wincing as the dried blood pulled at her wounds.

 

The cool water felt heavenly on her skin, and she gently combed through her feathers until the water ran clear past her. She knew the clean water alone would do wonders for the wounds, and there was not much she could do with her wings anyway, except to air them the best she could. Her back, she finally decided, she would allow Oin to put some salve upon, if only to speed the healing. Sleep and movement would be dreadfully difficult enough as it was. Feeling slightly better, Bella washed her clothes as best she was able, sighing at the state of her shirt. It would serve until her wounds healed, no sense in staining a clean one, but it was well and truly ruined. Redressing, she also took a moment to clean her blade, feeling nauseous at the amount of blood that sluiced off of it. She would not cry over those foul creatures she had killed, but she would never find joy in it.

 

     The wet shirt felt soothing upon her back, but the soggy pants were beginning to chafe by the time Bella found the camp. Clothes would have to wait though, as she was assaulted by the mother hens the moment she set toe within the clearing. Dori and Ro ganged up to scold her thoroughly, while Bofur (gently) manhandled her onto a stump and Oin readied his salves. She only grumbled mildly when the back of her shirt was rucked up, pinking slightly as she noticed Thorin and Balin watching the unfolding events with amusement.

 

     Strolling up, Balin said, “You know, this entire thing is reminding me terribly of two young princes who used to fight tooth and nail against any medical attention.”

 

     Dwalin grinned as he slid a glance over at Kili. “Right you are brother, and Kili is still just as much of a baby as anyone when it comes to wounds. He used to howl like you were stabbing him, over a scraped knee.”

 

     Blushing, Kili rapidly fired back, “Well, at least I didn’t knock three healers unconscious over an ingrown toenail!” Dwalin very quickly shut up and retreated into the forest under the banner of hunting, while Kili collapsed in a merry heap against his brother.

 

     Oin gave her a pat on the shoulder, and surprised, Bella turned. “Are you done already?” she asked. “That’s it?”

 

     “Aye, that’s it lassie, and by my beard if you weren’t one of the best patients I’ve ever had, after Balin.” Bella grinned at Balin as Oin shuffled off, and he smiled back. “Well, we can’t all be great babies about it,” was his offhand remark as he turned to help set up camp.

 

 

 

     She had waited until everyone was asleep before releasing her Frustrations. Bella sighed in relief and annoyance as the huge black wings fell gently along the log and ground to either side of her, twitching slightly with pain. Oin had given her a sleeping draught that was supposed to have numbing effects, but she did not want to take it until she was ready to sleep. She was tired, most certainly, but her wings were still damp and had grown increasingly vexing throughout the evening. The fire felt nice, drying them out as the warmth worked into the wing muscles, and Bella began to feel even more drowsy.

 

     “If you’re not careful, you’re going to fall face first into the fire”

 

     Bella jerked awake at the voice behind her, and turned to see Thorin watching her. She had forgotten he was on first watch tonight, and began to draw her wings and press them back into herself.

 

     “Don’t,” he said quickly, and Bella stopped, surprised. “Just, don’t on account of me. I don’t mind them.”

 

     Reluctantly, she allowed her wings to relax again, wincing at all of the movement.

 

     “Are you hurt?” he asked quietly, and Bella sighed. “M’fine,” she mumbled, and then glared as Thorin laughed quietly.

 

     “You really are stubborn as a dwarf. Why did you not let Oin tend to them? Is it a privacy issue?”

 

     Bella huffed, annoyed. “Well, no. I mean, at least that’s not the reason I didn’t let him see them. It’s just,” she gestured weakly to the feathers, “Any salve would have a tough time getting through all the down to the skin, and rubbing it in would hurt worse than just letting them be. I cleaned everything well enough earlier. They will heal on their own, in time.”

 

     Thorin nodded in understanding. A comfortable silence fell, and Bella rather enjoyed it. She had almost drifted off again when Thorin coughed lightly. Blinking sleepily, Bella nodded to herself. “Mm, I suppose I should lay down properly before I burn myself to a crisp.”

 

     “No actually, I was just going to say…” he looked uncomfortable. “Well, I noticed that some of your feathers looked rather crooked. I was wondering if it bothered you.”

 

     “Oh.” Bella sat and thought about it for a bit. “Well, it is bothersome, but straightening them out would involve rather more bending and stretching than I feel up for at the moment.” She shrugged. “They will have to wait until I feel well enough to groom them properly, I suppose.”

 

     Thorin coughed again. Bella wondered if he had caught a cold. Looking quickly up at her and then away, he said, “Would you like… well, would it be okay if I helped put them to rights?” When Bella did not answer right away he continued, “Of course, only if you were okay with it, I just thought that perhaps if someone else straightened them out it wouldn’t require you to move as much, but I can understand that even that might be too painful.”

 

     Why Thorin was being charitable all of the sudden was a bit strange, but perhaps this was the after-effects of saving him, his supposed repayment of a debt he felt owed to her. Even though her act was supposed to repay his act of saving, which had occurred first. She wondered if it was going to become a repeating cycle of saving and counter-saving. How exhausting to think of. Really, the last thing she expected was favors, but Bella was just too tired to care about the logistics and propriety of it all. Smiling, she looked at Thorin and said quietly, “Thank you, that would be most appreciated.”

 

     Looking caught off guard, Thorin coughed again several times (she would seriously talk with Oin about that tomorrow) and quickly stood and shuffled around awkwardly behind her. Lowering one wing so that she could see his face over it, Bella just instructed him to start wherever he pleased, and that she would tell him if any certain place hurt too much. She was pleasantly surprised at how gentle his touch was, and Bella couldn’t help but sigh as she felt everything being put to rights.

 

     “Are you okay?” Thorin asked, sounding worried.

 

      “Hmm? Oh yes, fine, sorry. It just… feels nice, everything being put back in order.”

 

     “Like a rent bit of chainmail being linked back together?”

 

     “Yes, I suppose so. Though I’ve not much experience with chainmail.”

 

     “Ah, hm, yes, of course. “

 

     The addition of Thorin slowly combing through her wings had Bella closer to sleep than ever, until his low voice demanded her attention.

 

     “So… you said that privacy was not the reason you denied care for your wings, but that does imply that privacy plays a role in it somewhere.”

 

     Though the question had not been asked, the curiosity was implied. Exhaling slowly, Bella considered how best to proceed. “Well,” she began. “As you know, the nature of hobbits is a closely held secret of our race, more out of a habit of never forming connections outside of ourselves than any real desire to be secretive, I think. A hobbit’s earth-sense is usually common knowledge, the powers being very practical in our day to day lives, and are a source of pride for many individuals and families. The animal forms though… those tend to be a bit more private, at least at first. When they manifest, such a thing is typically shared only with close family. As one learns to control it more, most folks become more free with the knowledge, and it is not uncommon for some to spend a majority of their time in animal form. Others like to keep it a private matter, and it is a respected choice. It depends greatly on personal preference. Grooming though, is something hardly ever done by someone who is not either close family such as a parent or sibling, or a spouse.”

 

     Bella felt Thorin’s fingers freeze where they were industriously working near the top of her left wing, and she scrunched her eyes closed. “I am sorry I did not tell you sooner, and I understand if it makes you uncomfortable and you wish to stop.”

 

     But his fingers resumed their gentle ministrations a moment later. “I assume this is because allowing another to groom you requires great trust in that person?”

 

     “Well, yes.” Bella said, relieved that it had not ended in disaster. “Animal forms tend to be more sensitive than our normal forms, and are more vulnerable.”

 

     Thorin only responded with a quiet grunt of acknowledgment as he continued his work.

 

 

 

     Bella awoke with her face smothered in a pillow, and her wings tented above her. Sitting up groggily, she ruffled her feathers, realizing that they moved smoothly along. Startled, she sat up fully and folded them in so she could reach them. Running a hand along the edge of her right wing, she felt the twinge of the wounds beneath, but the feathers were smooth and straight. She had no clue for how much of it she had been out, but it usually took Bella several hours to groom her wings properly.

 

     Retracting them slowly against her body, Bella felt a warm swelling in her chest. She went about the morning meal and packing with them tucked neatly against her back. She couldn’t bear to force them away when the breeze felt so nice. Besides, she reasoned, the wounds needed to air. She waved off Oin and Ro as they realized that of course her wings would have taken a beating why didn’t they think about that?! Her smile did far more to convince them of her well-being than her assurances did, though her warm affirmation of, “Everything feels lovely, Ro, really,” did bring a smile to another’s face, even if his arms were sore.

 

 

 

 

(If anyone wonders how Thorin managed to finish the job while she was asleep, I like to imagine it took a great deal of finesse and several sticks to prop her up.)

 


	14. Raven

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for being missing for the past weekends! Travel and family events got the best of me, but I have a brand new chapter ready. 
> 
>  
> 
> So excited to see the final movie,by the way!!! I've got a ticket to the all day marathon, and hoping for a fresh wave of inspiration for this story from it :D

    By the time evening fell, the amiable moods of the morning had wilted somewhat. Even though she had anticipated it, the fact was that all the walking had aggravated Bella’s injuries, and she was trying to keep a cheerful disposition through the pain. Stopping for the night was something she had looked forward to all day, and she had already mentally laid out plans for how to spend the precious time.

 

     Except there was a royal rock in her way. As soon as she dropped her pack, Thorin had rushed over, asking if she would like him to groom her wings for her again. She caught Ro’s wide-eyed stare, and flushing, politely declined his offer. She instead gathered herself up and went off to look for the nearest stream. Thorin accompanied her, fussing and asking if he could help in any way. Trying to be patient, Bella explained to him that no, unless he would like to see her naked, she did not need any help bathing. Thorin’s face slowly sank into a range of colors, and he fled without a word back to camp. Finally alone, Bella enjoyed her cleansing and took her time meandering back to camp, hoping dinner would be made by the time she got there.

 

      Things were not at all well when she arrived, however. Upon returning to her pack, Bella found that someone had taken the liberty of laying her bedroll out for her. Right next to a certain royal blue bedroll that she remembered vividly, for the amount of majestic glowering that had been directed at her from its confines during the first half of the journey. Taking a deep breath, Bella tried to remind herself that Thorin’s actions were coming from a good place, and that she had wanted his attention, after all. Not saying anything, she instead turned and went to get some food. To almost run into a brimming bowl of stew, being held out to her by an angry looking dwarf. They both stared at the bowl for a moment before Bella wordlessly took it from Thorin.

 

     Before she could sit down on the log near the fire, Thorin laid his coat down upon it. Thinking he wanted to claim the space, Bella moved down to the next section. She didn’t try to understand everything about dwarves; sometimes they were just odd. Seeing her move, Thorin made an irritated sound deep in his throat before moving the coat to where she was about to sit. They awkwardly and silently went around the fire in this fashion before Thorin gave up with a growl of frustration. Deciding the fire was an altogether confusing area tonight, Bella abandoned it completely, choosing instead to sit in her bedroll. Gingerly, she set her bowl upon the ground and situated herself with a wince. Studiously ignoring the intense staring, she ate the bland meal with industry.

 

     Emptying her bowl, Bella went to perform the evening ritual of rinsing her dish, but her inner battle of getting up was interrupted by a fast-moving Durin projectile. Snatching the bowl from her, Thorin wordlessly turned and dispatched of it. Filled with increasing confusion and frustration, Bella struggled back up from her bedroll, while Thorin returned from _whatever_ he was doing with her bowl, and tried to gently shove her back onto the blankets.

 

 

          "Just stay there.”

 

          “Why!?” Bella exploded. Feeling sheepish, she coughed.

 

          Looking confused, Thorin replied. “Because.” Her stare prompted him to elaborate. “Because you need to rest.”

 

          “According to whom?” She asked indignantly.

 

          “Well, me.” Thorin stated lamely.

 

     She just stared at him, hoping he would realize how unreasonable she was being and leave.

 

           No such luck though. Rallying, Thorin squared his shoulders. “I am the Leader of this company, and I order you to rest.”

 

 

 

     Bella sat back for a moment, her face blank. Feeling that he had finally gotten somewhere, Thorin was just about to turn away when the hobbit got up. He watched, perplexed, as she marched away into the woods. Of course he followed.

 

     They had walked for some minutes when Bella halted abruptly. Thorin contorted himself and almost toppled over trying to not run into her injured back. By the time he regained his balance, the tiny woman had pinned him with one of the worst glares he had seen so far. He began to suspect he had misspoken somewhere along the way. Focusing on the goal, Thorin cut in before the discussion could start.

 

          “You should really be resting. Just go back to camp and go to sleep.”

 

          “Oh, is that your professional opinion?” Bella shot off.

 

          Breathing deeply, Thorin replied evenly, “Yes, it is. You are injured, the best thing for you is rest.”

 

          “Well I disagree. And who are you to tell me what is in my best interests?”

 

          He really never was very good at remaining calm. “I am leader of this company!”

 

          “Right. King under the Mountain, and various other pompous titles. You may be a king, Thorin Oakenshield, but you are not _my_ king, and I refuse to be treated as one of your subjects!”

 

          “And besides,” she continued, her rage in full swing. “I know for a fact that others have been injured worse than I on this trip, and yet I don’t see you hounding them every step of the way. Or taking your own advice, for that matter.”

 

     He knew her argument was sound, and so he bulled on. “They are warriors, experienced and strong. They know their limits, as do I. They do not need tending to.”

 

          “And I do? Why, because I’m too delicate? Is it because I’m a hobbit, or a woman?”

 

          “BOTH!” Thorin all but shouted, breathing heavily in the aftermath of his anger. They would be lucky if he didn’t bring an entire orc-pack down upon their heads, with all the noise.

 

 

     Bella was a study in opposites. Quiet, staring at the ground, she conversed in quiet tones. “I’ll just address the one last subject then. I signed the contract to come on this quest. And I don’t regret it, not one bit.” She was looking into his eyes now. “I came along because I realized I was living a life that was naught but motions, and I felt more in that one night of invasion that I had in a decade. I also did it because I saw you, all of you, and I couldn’t help but see the family that you are. And something like that, people like that, deserve the chance to be happy, to have somewhere that love can take hold. So I came along, to reclaim a home for a family, and maybe with the absurd hope to find some family of my own. All I ask is that you let me be. I'm more than capable of taking care of myself, I've been doing it most of my life, and you need to focus on the task at hand. Let me alone so I can help, put up with me for that long, and then I promise, I’ll be of no more frustration to you.” Nodding to herself, the diminutive lady walked silently past him and back towards the camp.

 

 

     Thorin was uncertain how long he stayed out in the woods with the chains of past, present, and future hung about him. Long enough that when he returned, Nori was the only one left awake, serving his turn as guard. Thorin was thankful the spy didn’t spare him more than a glance. Walking over to his own roll, Thorin felt a fresh wave of shame as he noticed that Bella’s empty roll was still laid out next to his own. Was she so upset that she hadn’t even returned to camp? He didn’t notice her sleeping anywhere else in the group, but right before he let sleep take him, Thorin did see a raven sleeping upon a low branch, it’s feathers ruffled against the cold.

 

     The next morning, Bella was up and eating breakfast and chatting with Ori as if nothing had happened, and Thorin was much the same, if quieter than normal. Everyone knew something had occurred, had pretended the shouting fell upon deaf ears. The walking continued, and that night saw both hobbits tucked in their bedrolls amongst a merry band of dwarves.

 

 


	15. On the subject of growing hobbits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this chapter; it is absolute blathering nonsense. However, it makes me giggle, and I hope you enjoy it despite the lack of anything pertaining to the main plot.

 

 

     Bella awoke with a groan, and rolled over in her bedroll, smacking her head gently against the ground. She knew this was coming; they had been out in the wild for long enough. But that didn’t mean she had to take it with grace. Hadn’t she bled enough in the last few days? She muffled a yelp as someone whispered very close to her ear, “Are you all right, Miss Boggins?”

 

     Flopping over quickly, Bella almost smacked her head into Kili’s own, and found his huge brown eyes full of concern. “You’re not hurt, are ya?” She quickly sat up and smoothed the blanket over herself, even though everything was already covered. “Oh, what? Yes, yes, I’m perfectly fine Kili, thank you for asking. I think I just, hmm, I think I need some private time to myself, if you would be so kind?”

 

     Eyebrows lifting, Kili quickly backed off, with some alarm on his face from knowing more than he wanted to. Smiling through her grimace, Bella quickly stole away with her pack to the privacy of the woods to sort herself out.

 

     Kili didn’t want to know what sort of things Bella needed privacy for, but he was still concerned. She had woken up with what sounded like a groan of pain, and he knew that with the battle with Azog not far behind them, she could be hiding some secret hurt in an attempt to be brave. He wanted to ask Fili for a second opinion, but he was still asleep. Maybe he would confer with both his brother and Rowan when they awoke; she would be able to convince Bella to get her wounds tended. For the moment, Kili decided that it would be nice of him to roll up Miss Bogginses bedroll for her, so that she wouldn’t further injure herself doing so when she returned. He began to panic when he found the bloodstain on the blanket though.

 

     Bella ignored the shouts for her with a grumble. They didn’t sound like the “There’s an orc pack upon us run for your life!” type of shouts, and she doubted she would have cared even if there were orcs. She was in a foul mood, and she intended to do nothing but sit and eat and move as little as possible the rest of the morning. The walking would be bad enough with her cramps. When she had finally changed and cleaned her bloody trousers off as best she could, Bella made her way back to camp.

 

     She walked into the clearing and was met with several hysterical dwarrows. Thorin seemed agitated, and began stalking toward her, with Kili, Bofur, Dori, and Oin following behind him like distressed ducklings. Her wings began to twitch in irritation.

 

     “What?” she deadpanned as Thorin was about to open his mouth. She didn’t have time for the preachy look on his face. “What have I possibly done wrong now? Kili knew where I was, I just wanted a few moments to myself, is that really such a crime?!” She was shouting by the end, but couldn’t really be bothered to care. Her wings had stretched to their full measure despite the healing injuries, and were quite imposing.

 

      Thorin was wearing a look similar to a struck cow, and the only sentence he could manage was, “But are you ok?”

 

     Bella huffed. “No, I’m not ok! My entire middle feels like a baby badger is trying to claw its way out of me, my trousers are ruined, and I forgot the proper cloths at home, so I had to make due. Now, if you please, all I want to do for the morning is sit as still as possible.”

 

     Glaring at anyone who made eye contact, she proceeded to stomp over to her bedroll, only to screech at the offending bloodstain. “Great! Got it on my blanket as well, now that’ll have to be washed.” She began to make her way back to the stream, but not before shouting back at the clearing, “If any of you are smart, you will not come looking for me. Good day!”

 

 

     The entire clearing was smothered in shocked silence. As one, the dwarves turned to Rowan, who had watched the entire meltdown from the safety of her own bedroll. She nervously made eye contact with Bofur and then Thorin, who only demanded, “Explain.”

 

          “Explain what?” she said, startled. “You heard her. She tends to get touchy when this happens, it really is best to just avoid her till it’s done.” Rowan would have laughed at the look of panic on Kili’s face, if it hadn’t been so genuine. “But what’s happening?!” he almost shouted. “What’s wrong with her, why is she so angry?”

 

     “Does she need a healer?” Fili added, looking furtively over his shoulder to where Bella had stormed off.

 

          “Aye,” Bofur added. “If’n she’s injured, it should be looked at. Though,” he coughed, kicking a random stone, “That’s most assuredly a job for a qualified healer.”

 

          “Oh no!” Oin piped up, seemingly hearing what was happening perfectly fine. “I’ve got enough difficult patients as it is, I don’t need any more!” He looked at Thorin and Kili, who suddenly found the trees fascinating.

 

          “Well, what do we do then? She’s obviously hurt, but she won’t accept any help, and we don’t even know when she’ll be back!” Bofur looked lost.

 

          “What if she passes out from blood loss? Did you see the size of the stain on her blanket? I don’t even know how she’s still walking!” Kili was distraught.

 

           Rowan wasn’t sure if she was meant to be amused or alarmed. “Are you all really that thick?” she asked. She was met with glares of varying degrees of indignation. So they were serious then. She sighed. “I thought I wouldn’t have to have this talk until I had children of my own, and here I am, explaining such things to a group of grown dwarrows. You lot are really something, you know?”

 

     Nobody responded.

 

     “Ok. So, I’m going to assume that your ignorance is due to the lack of women in your life.” The joke fell flat, and Bofur was the only one who smiled. She offered a grateful one in return. “And who knows, maybe it is different for dwarf women. But hobbits, well…” Rowan trailed off and groaned. “How am I meant to do this?”

 

          “Just spit it out, lassie!” Dwalin barked.

 

     “Fine! Hobbit women go through … cycles, when our bodies get ready to bear a child, if the opportunity is available.” She blushed. “But if, well, if the right… _additives_ aren’t available, a baby doesn’t form, and then the body has to get rid of all the… preparations, if you will. So every cycle that a woman doesn’t get pregnant, her body expels blood and such that is unnecessary, and the body starts the cycle over.” Rowan was nearly whispering by the time she finished, and all the dwarrow had gathered closer to hear. An air of awkwardness settled over the camp as the words sank in. That is, until Kili shouted, rather gleefully, “Cool!” Plopping down on the end of her bedroll, Kili grabbed Rowan’s hands and began firing off questions.

 

          “So why doesn’t the body just keep all the blood and stuff, if it might need it again? Seems like it would save a lot of time and energy. What other stuff is needed to make a baby? I always heard that baby hobbits grew out of the ground like flowers. Is that what they need? Good dirt?”

 

     He turned to his uncle. “Thorin, once we get to Erebor and claim the mountain back, can Bella and Rowan grow us baby hobbits? I’ve always wanted to see what a baby hobbit looks like, they must be so tiny!”

 

     Thorin only groaned, and Kili’s smile was too genuine for Rowan to tell him that she would most assuredly not be growing him any babies. She settled for saying what she could. “Well, you are right. Hobbit babes are very small. I got to hold my baby brother when he was born, and he was barely as long as my arm.”

 

     With that, Fili quickly dragged his brother away before he could make any more of a fool of himself and the family line, and Rowan smiled in relief. She looked up to see a flustered but determined looking Thorin staring her down. Apparently she wasn’t through with the Durins quite yet. She waited patiently for him to formulate his question.

 

          “So Bella is going to… Will she be…”

 

          “Fine?” Rowan supplied. “Yes. She will most likely be incredibly grouchy for the next several days, and I suggest everyone avoid her, for your own safety, but yes, she will be fine. It’s a stroke of luck that we are already headed to this friend of Gandalf’s, and I’ll be there to help her out. It’s nothing to worry over, this is a regular occurrence for us.”

 

     She smiled grimly, doing the mental math and realizing how soon her own bleeding was due. As Thorin walked away, seemingly disturbed but relieved, Rowan got to watch in amusement as Bofur’s mind caught on to her words. “You’re next, “he said, and she laughed at the horror on his face.

 

          “Come here. “ She pulled him down onto the blanket beside her, and cuddled into his willing embrace. “Don’t look so worried. I’m not nearly as terrible as Bella is. Mostly, I just seem to get unreasonably cold.” Rowan could feel the vibration of his laughter through her body. “Well then,” Bofur said, smiling down at her. “I’ll just have ta make sure and keep you extra warm then, aye lass?” She hummed her agreement into his chest.

 

 


	16. Bumbling about

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ok, I know it doesn't seem like Bella and Thorin are getting very far with each other, they're just sort of sitting there like lumps while Ro and Bofur are off frolicking in rainbow land. But I PROMISE, Bagginshield will have it's moment. They just have to build up to it :D

     When they finally made it onto the land of Gandalf’s ‘friend’, it was hard to miss. The first inkling was the flowers. Even in the midst of her aches and pains, Bella couldn’t help but be delighted as the sparse clumps of clover, lupine and aster quickly grew into vast fields awash with blooms. The bees startled her slightly, more due to their shocking size than anything else. Their deep droning and the whisper of wind through the flowers filled the air all around, and Bella felt a deep peace settle within her. The massive shrub fence was quite impressive, rivaling in height even her towering thorn vine creations.

 

      Before she could properly admire the handsomely carved wooden gate though, Bella was being dragged off by Gandalf, her niece flagging his other side. Stepping inside the hedge was like entering another world. A massive, low log house commanded attention in the center of the compound, sheltered under several large trees. Even more flowers sprawled across the shady front yard, and she could see what looked like sun drenched pastures stretching out behind the buildings. It was a fair bet that the hobbits could have stood there quite a while admiring all that they could see, if they hadn’t been interrupted and terrified in the same moment.

 

     With a jarring roar that seemed to rent the very air, a bear of prodigious size seemingly appeared out of nowhere. It approached the hobbits in what was really a measured lumber, but due to the size difference, was more than fast enough to alarm Bella. Reacting on pure instinct, she shoved her niece behind her flared wings, and crouched down. The bear was rather more graceful than the trolls, and managed to stop before running nose first into the gnarled vine fence that now blocked his front gate and strange new visitors from view.

 

 

     The tiny creatures had intrigued him more than he considered them a threat, as he had always tended a soft spot for all things small and delicate. His interest was especially absorbed in the large wings one of them sported. Visitors were rare, and ones holding such promise, all but unheard of. That was also why Beorn had quite forgotten that he tended to scare others with his bear form, but he remembered it well enough when he saw the panic on the one’s face. They reminded him of the rabbit he had found cornered by a fox in the woods, eyes wide and chests moving rapidly. The prickly vines had tipped the balance enough to abandon the bear, the better to converse and find out what exactly had happened into his home. Perhaps these little ones were not as delicate as he had first thought, though they still looked like rabbits. And he told them so. 

 

          “Oh-ho! So you are not so small and helpless after all, my little bunnies.”

 

     Stepping around the vines, Beorn scooped up the dark-haired one and looked her in the face.

 

          “I don’t know what you are, but you are peculiar enough as it stands. I think I should rather like to hear your story.”

 

    Ignoring the angry squeaks and irate wing-thrashing coming from the dark one, he gathered the copper-headed one into his other hand. 

 

          “And you need feeding up too. That is settled then, a fair trade. I will feed the bunnies, and they can tell me their tales. Off we go.”

 

     And with that, Beorn took his new charges into the house for a fine lunch of cream and honey.

 

 

 

     It was just as well that Beorn was unaware of his other guests as of yet, because they were feeling quite hostile at the moment. After leading the hobbits into the yard, Gandalf had craftily snuck back out the gate, leaving events to play out as he was confident they would. But upon returning two hobbits the poorer, he had run into a snag. Bofur had become belligerent, accusing Gandalf of abandoning Ro and Bella to a perilous fate, and Thorin had also been surprisingly combative, ranting that it was his Company and that he had a responsibility to protect all members. The rest of the group, while much less passionate, were clearly none too happy about the way events were developing.

 

     When they had heard Beorn’s roar, Gandalf had been forced to resort to drastic measures to keep his plans from falling apart. He had knocked Bofur unconscious with the end of his staff, tripped Thorin with the other end, and grabbed Fili and Kili’s hoods as they had darted past. Ori was kept back by Dori, and all the others had enough sense to not test the wizard, and settled instead for angry muttering and mutinous glares. Hearing Bella’s indignant squeaking proved she was still alive and well, and the dwarrow calmed somewhat. Once it had been silent for several minutes, Gandalf crept in quietly, ordering the rest to follow gradually behind. Dwalin and Bifur propped their impaired companions up inside the gate, and left them to wake up in their own time.

 

 

 

     This was ridiculous. Bella could see Ro being held in the man’s other hand, arms crossed like a petulant child, and imagined she didn’t look any more mature herself. But really! Gandalf had left them to be whisked off by some stranger who called them ‘bunnies’ and treated them as if they were a new toy. Where were the dwarves? And where was that blasted wizard? They would be having some words after this. Ruffling her feathers, Bella tried to quiet her grumbling. Largely upset at the indignity of it all, she reminded herself of the trust placed in Gandalf, and that they had come to no harm as of yet. Food was even promised. 

 

     So the hobbits went quietly enough, and soon Beorn had them seated in an actually rather comfortably sized dining hall, and a feast of honey, cream, bread, and fruits were laid out before them. He let out booming laughs each time they refilled their plates, and the more the hobbits ate, the more jovial he became.

 

     “Look how much they eat! You may look like bunnies, but you certainly don’t act like anything I’ve ever met.”

 

     Still chuckling, he ordered more food to be brought in by the animals (which was a little strange, but anyone who brought food was fine enough company). Four plates in, Gandalf himself arrived, followed by Oin and Gloin. Beorn’s brow furrowed a little, but he was in too good of a mood to be terribly angry, and once he saw his charges nodding at the new arrivals, he waved them over to the long table. The two dwarves made their polite introductions, which were largely ignored. Then a tray of fresh berries arrived, and Ro dug in with such abandon that Beorn nearly toppled out of his chair laughing.

 

     Slowly, the rest of the dwarves trickled in. Beorn frowned a little deeper every time they were interrupted, but every time he saw recognition on the hobbit’s faces, he waved them on. They had quite a merry gathering, and Gandalf promised stories of great proportion around the fire that night. The hobbits had finally slowed their tremendous rate of consumption, and were sat back in their chairs with great grins of satisfaction. Ro was so happy and full she only groaned when Beorn gently poked her overfull belly.

 

          “Finally full then, little bunny? I should hope so, or I might have run out of food!”

 

     She was about to shoot back a sassy retort when everyone’s attention was drawn to the end of the hall, where a tremendous shouting had been taken up. 

 

 

 

                                       ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

 

 

     What was going on? He was blind! Darkness all around, he couldn’t see a thing. And there was something furry on his face!

 

     Bofur swatted frantically at the rat that was attacking him, only to realize that it was just his hat, fallen over his face. Able to see now in the honey colored light, Bofur didn’t feel much calmer. Where was he? He looked up at the huge gate he was laying against, and his memory flooded back in.

 

     Ro! He had to protect her. Was she ok? Where was she even? Everyone else was gone, and not a sound to be heard. Oh Mahal, he hoped they hadn’t all been eaten by something.

 

     But why would he have been left here? Scrambling up, he almost knocked Thorin right over from where he was still asleep against the post. This was getting more and more confusing. He just hoped nobody had kissed him while he was out.

 

     Deciding the best course of action, Bofur headed towards the largest building. Encouraged by the sounds of several voices, he sped up. Perhaps things were alright after all. But just as he neared the door, he heard Ro, and she sounded like she was in pain. He had to do something!

 

      Letting out his best battle roar, Bofur slammed the doors open, prepared to charge to the rescue. His headlong rush down the wooden hall slowed though, as he took in everything. The entire company was there, as well as a very large man, and they were all frozen and silent, looks of shock upon their faces. He had interrupted what looked like a grand feast. Bofur felt his face heat up, and he wrung his hat in his hands, staring sheepishly at the floor. Falling back upon dwarvish etiquette, he bowed deeply to the room.

 

     When he returned to standing, there was still not a sound. He was on the verge of panic when the man, who could only be Gandalf’s friend Beorn, shattered the silence with a roaring laugh. He beat his fist upon the table, and Bofur was sure there were tears in his eyes. The rest of the group soon dissolved into mirth as well, and he felt better about the situation, if still more than a bit embarrassed. Looking to where he had seen Ro seated, Bofur wondered if she thought him a fool now. But he started as he realized she wasn’t there anymore. He began searching the faces at the table, but before he could, he felt himself get pulled around by a strong grip. Ro gave him a wide smile before insistently leading him from the room and back outside.

 

     Bella watched the two go, grinning like idiots, and was slightly surprised that the anger she had come to expect never arose. It was hard to feel any ill will when she had just eaten as heartily as she had, and even then, she no longer felt any reason to be cross with Bofur. She knew just as well as the rest of them that the journey they were on was heaped with danger, and she had seen him place his own safety on the line for her niece multiple times. It clearly was not some ephemeral affection; with such high stakes, who was she to stand in the way of any small happiness that could be found?

 

 

 

     Thorin’s thoughts, while not so deep, were equally dark. He had awoken, alone and abandoned outside. Rushing to ensure the safety of the rest of his company, he had gone at it with a touch more tact than Bofur, and had thus cracked open the hall door without anyone being the wiser. Upon seeing the cheery scene of a dinner winding to its end and a glowing burglar ensconced contentedly in the midst of it, he had shut the door back just as silently. Glad that his people had at least been cared for, Thorin let himself wander back out to the fields of their hosts’ home. 

 

     Bofur allowed himself to be pulled along without complaint and led to rest against the trunk of a massive sourwood. The tree sheltered the small village of beehives their host kept, and the air was veritably throbbing with the sound of the insects returning to roost for the night. Nestling in against the roots, they both gazed up at the foliage, an inferno in the dying light. Rowan happily fell against the broad chest while she stole Bofur’s hat out of habit, exchanging it instead for several rolls, still warm, that she had tucked into her pockets. Grinning, Bofur bit into the first one, realizing how ravenous he was as he tried to pace himself.

 

          “I’m sorry about everyone laughing at you earlier. Thank you for coming to my rescue though,” she said sweetly.

 

          “An who said I was comin ta save you, hmm?” Bofur quirked an eyebrow at her as he munched. 

 

     Rowan let out a small huff of laughter. “Can you tell me honestly that that wasn’t what you were doing?”

 

     The lack of a response made her smile warmly. Picking up one of the miner’s rough hands, she studied it intently. “You’re always coming to my rescue. It makes me feel safe. You make me feel safe.”

 

     A soft kiss was pressed to his jaw. “Well, an what’s gotten into you?”

 

          “Besides a large amount of strawberries? Nothing much.  This trip has just made me appreciate things more, I suppose. Things that never occurred to a simple hobbit of the Shire.”

 

     Something sounded off in her voice. Bofur looked down to see that Rowan was picking at a scab on her leg. Reaching down, he gently grabbed her hand and moved it back to her lap. “Don do that lass, please.”

 

          “I’m sorry,” she said, instead stuffing her hand into her pocket. “I know it’s a terribly unattractive habit, I’ve tried to stop.”

 

          “Nah, that’s not wha concerns me,” he said, rubbing her arm soothingly. “If’n you do that, it’s making things harder on yerself, and allowin infection to sneak back in. I don want’cha getting sick, is all.”

 

          “Oh. It doesn’t… gross you out then?”

 

     Bofur chuckled quietly. “Awh, no. We all have our nervous ticks. Bella messes about with her clothes, Thorin and Kili worry their lips, as I’m sure ya have seen. My cousin Bifur has a tendency to chew on spare bits of wood from his carving. Canna say it’s completely daft though, as he has the best teeth out o’ any of us.”

 

     Ro looked intrigued by this information, and ruminated for a moment before looking up at him. “And you? What’s your nervous habit?”

 

     Bofur felt his face heat up a bit, but he answered nonetheless. “Me? I tend to hum to meself when I’m worried, or tap my foot along to a beat when nervous. Musical tendencies have always suited me, I suppose.” He finished with a shrug, trying to act nonchalant. But when the hobbit lass smiled and hummed thoughtfully, he couldn’t help but feel a warmth settle in his chest.

 

     They sat quietly for a while, and Bofur noticed Thorin walking slowly along the stream that cut across the fields. He knew they would have to return to the group soon, but he was loathe to move.

 

 

     Suddenly the body resting against him stirred, and Rowan turned around with worry etched on her features. “It’s just. I don’t know where this is going, or what it means, to you at least. I know how I feel, and I think I know your opinion of it all, but I’m less sure of how close those two things come to meeting.” The words burst from her small frame, and once they were out a look of vulnerability remained about the wide hazel eyes.

 

     Taken by surprise, Bofur didn’t have time to rebut the claims made before a soft mouth was being pressed to his. The kiss felt panicked, and he let it take over, trying to gentle it, slowing it down until the gradual slide of mouths and wandering hands was soothing. Separating slightly, Bofur felt worry taking a cold slide along his spine.

 

           “Wha’s wrong, lass?”

 

     Encirled by his arms, Ro seemed to wilt slightly. “Before any of this happened,” she encompassed their entire adventure in a wave of her hand, “I had tried dating hobbit lads. They were all very nice of course, polite and respectable and all. And I liked them. Was comfortable with the idea of settling down one day and living in a nice home with one of them, and having lots of children and attending parties and sharing quiet moments and filling meals. But then you came along.” She looked at him, and her gaze turned pensive. “And you weren’t polite, or respectable, or anything a hobbit is or should be. You were loud, and crass, and made bawdy jokes and smelled of smoke and pine. I don’t know what our future holds. Certainly not quiet moments and garden parties and quaint houses. But I do know that I have never felt so much for anyone as I have for you. I am alive in a way I never knew I could be, and I am ready to walk into whatever unknown calamities await, if you are willing to have me.” As she finished, Rowan looked determined but brittle, glass just before it shatters.

 

     Bofur crushed her to him, kissing until he cursed the need to breathe. Catching her face up in both of his hands, he touched their foreheads together gently, harsh breaths mixing in the space between. “I had been with other dwarves before this trip. Both men an women. Some of them I left, most left me first. Never under bad circumstances, and all wished me well enough. None of them had enough fire for me though. They had fight, aye, as most dwarves are wont to. But not the fire and spirit I was searchin for. That, I didn’t happen across till I found you. Tucked away in the most unexpected place ye were, but from the first moment I suspected this could be something special. It both terrifies and exhilarates me that ye came along on this journey lass, and I fear losing what I only just found. But I’m going to follow wherever you are destined to go, and I will protect ye in whatever ways I can. You are my Mimur-ars, my tiny fire.”  

 

 

                                                          ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

 

 

     Bella had been watching the door eagerly for her niece when Thorin came in. He had the default ‘majestic anger’ face on, and Bella felt guilt settle in her chest upon realizing she hadn’t realized he was even missing. Her eyes followed him as he stalked along the edge of the room to the table where Fili and Kili had heaped several plates with food for him. At least someone remembered, she thought sadly. Thorin was so busy being a leader that it was sometimes hard to remember he only had slightly more family than she did.

 

Thinking about it in a detached manner, Bella doubted if, had their places been switched, she would be able to take on everything Thorin did. Certainly, if she had managed to get as far as he had, she would not choose to embark on such a quest. As Balin had said, he had done well for his people. There was no desperate need for him to undertake this dangerous mission. She could not be certain of all that drove his mind, but perhaps she would work harder to try. He had, after all, let her into his life; even if it had taken roughly a year to do so. He had few enough caring people in his life, and with the way danger seemed to cling to him and vice versa, surely he could use one more.

 

 Mind made up, Bella nodded to herself. Bustling over to one of the sheep that had brought food in earlier, she asked politely after some drink, which she noted the young Durins had overlooked. Thanking the creature profusely when it returned a few moments later with a large pitcher, Bella hefted the jug and deftly grabbed a cup on her way over to the table. Thorin startled slightly as she plonked the items down by his elbow, but gave her a small smile and nod of gratitude as he poured. Feeling entirely too smug, the hobbit nodded in return before wandering off to where nobody could see the idiotic look on her face. 

 

 

     Her niece did make an appearance soon after, with Bofur trailing in her wake. And if they both looked a bit flushed and out of sorts well, she was willing to overlook it. Yet more food was provided, and the group gathered around the large fireplace as the dark crept in around the windows. They shared warm cider and told their tale in parts, Beorn laughing loudly and listening attentively in turns. He grew quite incensed though when the goblins and wargs were introduced to the tale, and loudly voiced his astonishment at the part his bunnies played in it all. When all the telling had been done, the man stood from his seat and proclaimed that he would help them in any way possible. Clearly, deep seated animosity was a strong bonding point.

 

     The dwarves were eager to take Beorn up on his offer, and everyone looked forward to a chance to rest and recover. That night they snuggled down into the warm hay and made up for the sleep they had missed since leaving Rivendell. Within his green halls time seemed to lose its power, and the days and nights blended together into quiet stretches of peace and plenty.


	17. Brass buttons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, here is the next chapter, a bit late for last weekend. It's covering for both last and next weekend though, as I'll be starting a week of travel on the morrow. So sadly, the next update will probably not be until the week after next sometime. But for now, enjoy!

     Bella had a bit of revelation one morning as she woke early, stretching her wings and smiling sleepily at a bee that buzzed past. There had never been a time when she felt so at ease letting her wings out around so many others, around anyone in fact, but looking back she realized they had become a part of her daily life. She flexed and the muscles moved smoothly, all injury healed by time and good surroundings. Nodding to herself, she decided that if her wings were here to stay, she had best get them back into fighting form. She hadn’t had a regular training session since leaving the Shire, though the moments of actual life and death exercise counted for something in her books. Nevertheless, if she didn’t keep them in shape they would be useless when she needed them most, and that wouldn’t do. This was now the real world after all, she was no longer imagining foes out of her books.

 

     Rising, she used to tip of one wing to bat the bee away before it could land on Kili’s nose and wake him, snagged her pack, and headed out the door. The morning was peaceful as ever within Beorn’s lands, and the first cool touch of autumn had yet to be burnt away by the rising sun. The horses were vague shapes in the fog laying over the pastures, and the grass felt deliciously dewy on Bella’s bare feet.

 

     She had a bit of trouble deciding how to do her normal exercises, given that she had significantly fewer trees to work with, but eventually a bit of devilish genius struck. Using a few trees that were in a close cluster, Bella winded them around with some of her vines, creating a living obstacle course. She tried to focus on making the thorns larger and fewer between so she wouldn’t impale herself, and was pleasantly surprised when it actually worked. She had never attempted such a thing before, but it was definitely a new aspect of her powers she would have to explore.

 

 

 

     Posting watches was an unnecessary precaution while staying within Beorn’s halls, but Thorin couldn’t help but wake during the night or early in the morning, his body unused to relaxation and safety. He would look over his company, and stalk the halls, trying to plan and re-plan their future path, desperately seeking to foresee every obstacle and trap that could befall their journey. 

 

     Subconsciously doing a head-check,  Thorin had to stare a moment before realizing there was one less bedroll laid out than there should be. Following his suspicion, he moved gently around to the front of Dwalin’s familiar form, smirking as he found the telltale head of reddish hair tucked snugly between the massive arms. He would have to tease Dwalin for that later, but definitely out of earshot of the Ri brothers. The last thing they needed was for Dwalin and Dori to get into a brawl.

     He couldn't help but roll his eyes. For a group of individuals seemingly focused on a dangerous mission, there was an awful lot of romantic deviations occurring.  At least all the women in the company had been spoken for now, and he would not need to worry about following his sister-son’s every steps. His mind now lodged on that train of thought, Thorin’s eyes sought out the familiar green bedroll , and a slight stuttering set about his chest to find it empty of a particular hobbit. Sweeping the kitchen and finding it too bereft, he quickly made his way to the front porch, curiosity mingling with fear at why Bella would be up at such an early hour. Had something happened?

 

 

     When Rowan rose some hours later, Thorin was still in the same spot. He startled as she crept up on him, coughing and trying to pretend that he had been looking at anything else. The girl gave him a smile for his efforts, and said quietly, “She is a sight to behold, and no mistake.”

 

     Thorin sighed before making a noise of agreement. They continued to watch in companionable silence for a while longer, until the tranquility was broached once again.

 

          “She cares for you too, you know. It might not be obvious, but she’s made her life a study in keeping people out;  you cannot begin to imagine how much it means that she has let you in, let everyone in. You have all become her family, and that is something hobbits take very seriously.”

 

     Thorin looked down at the young woman. “Dwarves take family very serious too, I’ll have you know. She has become a part of this company, as have you, and that is no small matter either.”

 

          “I know it, and I do not doubt how much it means all around. All I’m trying to say is, take care of her. Pain has been a visitor at her door often enough.”

     Thorin wondered what the cryptic words were supposed to indicate, but supposed it wasn't her place to divulge family secrets. “I give you my word,” he said, his head bowed solemnly. Rowan patted his arm affectionately before turning back into the house to rouse Bofur and see about some breakfast. Thorin shook his head fondly. Hobbits and their food.

 

     Speaking of which…

 

 

 

     It was a well-known fact by now that hobbits were stealthy quiet, but it still amazed Thorin that he couldn’t hear anything above a whisper of movement from Bella as he approached the ‘training ground’. Her focus was evident as she twisted and wove, using the large thorns to pivot and ricochet through the tangled mess.

 

     It was plain that she was a fatal force, and Thorin enjoyed that fact far more than he probably should. Coughing lightly, he made his presence known, and had to watch carefully to see the minute hitch in Bella’s smooth movements that meant he had startled her. With a final swing, she dropped out of the canopy, using her wings to guide her gracefully to the ground. 

 

          “Good morning,” she said jovially, looking absolutely delighted to be out of breath and sweaty.

 

          “Good morning indeed,” Thorin replied with a slight smile. “I just came to fetch you, the others are up, and I thought it was likely time for one of your meals, double brunch I believe?”

 

          “Second breakfast,” Bella said with a serious face, smacking Thorin on the arm. “And it is just about that time, thank you for reminding me.” They returned to the house together, wading bravely into the chaos that was the dining hall.

 

 

 

     With hobbitish appetites sated for the moment, Bella wandered off after second breakfast with a mind to work on her wardrobe issues. She had packed enough clothes to get her by, but between the numerous losing and regaining of luggage, the wear of travel, and the ruin of bloodstains, her choices had become woefully slim. Not to mention Rowan’s own garments. Somehow, she had managed to rip off all but one of the brass Violet buttons from her waistcoat. Unless they were to complete the journey in their animal forms, she needed to devote some time to making new garments and repairing what was salvageable. It was not very often though that Bella actually got to accomplish what she set out to do, and apparently today was no exception.

 

     She had just finished laying out all the various scraps and bits of fabric she had, and was in pursuit of one of the sheep to ask after some thread and a needle when Kili careened in from outside, almost bowling her over in his excitement.

 

          “Oh good, it’s you! Why did you grow vines all over Beorn’s trees? He’s outside having a right fit about it! Did you mean to, or does it just happen sometimes when you’re asleep, like dreaming? Of course, that would mean you would have had to have been sleeping outside under the trees, which you weren’t, oh unless it can travel through the ground. Can it do that? That would be cool, if it could do that-“

 

          “Oh curse and bebother it all, I better go talk to him before I get us all kicked out,” Bella muttered, pushing Kili unceremoniously to the side. It didn’t seem to put him out much, and he continued his monologue as he followed her back out into the yard.

 

 

 

     Upon arrival at the scene of the crime, Bella learned that Kili’s definition of a ‘right fit’ in fact meant that Beorn was just in a louder form of his usual state of curiousness and amusement regarding his strange bunnies. Much as he had been when he learned that her wings were but the beginning of the tale. Bella and Rowan had both fully shifted at his behest that night, and she had never seen a personage so excited. Learning the unfortunate tale of his people the next morning gave her greater understanding, and she had wondered several times afterwards if his people weren’t in some way related to elves and hobbits.

 

     For today though, he simply demanded to know what the whole thing was meant for, and upon learning that, he demanded to see a display of her prowess. Slightly put out that she would have to get cleaned up again, and knowing she would be sore later from doing so much at once after doing nothing at all, Bella grudgingly began to put herself through the motions, trying her best to ignore the loud exclamations from Kili and the eerie lack of sound from Beorn.

 

     Despite herself, she began to enjoy the exertion, speeding up her acrobatics until she was toeing the limit, all distraction of an audience forgotten. When she finally started to flag and moved back to a standstill, the applause that erupted scared Bella so badly she almost fell out of the tree. Peering down, she blanched at the sight of the entire company surrounding Beorn. Oh, if only she could stay up in this tree forever. Maybe just until nightfall when everyone was asleep…

 

 

     But that would mean missing too many meals, and besides, she had decided to trust these dwarves with her life, and this was part of that. So she descended from the tree and smiled weakly through the crushing shoulder pats and exclamations of wonder. Beorn plucked her neatly out of the mass of admirers and placed her on his shoulder, declaring gladly that he was never going to let such an astounding individual out of his sight. Laughing self-consciously at all the praise, Bella felt her cheeks flush.

 

     As Beorn continued to ramble about her staying on to keep him company, her sweeping glance happened to notice a mountain king that was trying his best to glare holes through their host, and her face heated up for an entirely different reason. Patting the large shoulder to indicate she wanted down, Bella began making plans to flee into the house and putter around in the quietest corner she could find. Until a particular phrase caught her ears just as her feet touched down.

 

 

          “We’ll have to start doing some one-on-one combat training, with the both of ye lasses.”

 

     Bella whipped around to see a contemplative look she didn’t like one bit gracing Dwalin’s features. “Oh no, I don’t think so, that’s really not necessary…”

 

     Dwalin placed a hand on her shoulder that seemed to swallow up half of her arm as well. “Well, it may not be necessary for _you_ , clearly you’ve got enough skill to be getting on with. I was thinking more along the line that there’s a good bit we dwarves could learn from our burglars.”

 

     The wording of ‘our burglars’ temporarily disarmed Bella, but after a moment she rallied. “Oh no, no, flattery is not going to work on me. There is no way I am letting a bunch of dwarves swing their steel and iron at me, no offense. Besides, I can’t throw knives at you, I could actually hit one of you, and I mean really, clearly you have enough training, I mean…” Bella looked over to where Rowan was already jumping up and down and cheering, babbling excitedly to Ori about how they could match tactics based on what everyone’s weaponry of choice was. Her resolve started to wobble, and she heaved a great sigh.

 

          “What is my life even,” Bella breathed, and Dwalin just threw his head back and laughed.

 

 

 

     Much to the relief of one hobbit, and the disappointment of several dwarves, Dwalin didn’t have a chance to fully implement his training dreams. Bella, true to her wisdom, woke up the next morning positively _creaking_ , and Thorin (gently this time) persuaded her to take it easy for the next few days. And so Bella sat and watched her niece put every willing dwarf through their paces, grumbling to herself about not being a young bird anymore while Thorin smirked at the tirade from beside her. Rowan seemed delighted at the prospect of making all her friends look like fools, while getting praised copiously for it by Dwalin.

 

           “Would you look at the lot of ya, outwitted by a fox! It’s like I’m training striplings all over again. Oh, come on Bofur, you’re not even trying! As if you could actually lay a blow on her, even if you were.” Dwalin rolled his eyes at the miner’s weak attempts before turning back to the woman.“Rowan, I think when we reclaim the mountain you’ll have to head the agility courses. I’m sure Bofur won’t mind if I just steal you permanently. Hey, you’re supposed to be swinging that thing at her, not me! Oi, I was only _joking_ , for Mahal’s sake!” 

 

     Thorin couldn’t remember being this happy in a long while. There was still a dragon of course, and a deadline to reach Erebor. But it was hard to worry today, of all days. He had not heard the company this outwardly positive of their mission since the start, and the rest and food had done them all good. They would need it though. The things he had been told of Mirkwood by Beorn did not bode well, and he both dreaded and darkly anticipated meeting the vile elves who lived within. Those traitors would live to regret it if they dared to stand against them, after all they had been through.

 

 

 

 

     When it could no longer be ignored that each and every member of the company was in glowing health and time was marching inexorably towards Durin’s Day, Thorin and the others thanked Beorn profusely for his hospitality and prepared to depart. The towering man was reluctant to relinquish his beloved bunnies, as he had grown to enjoy the company, against his own nature. They promised to visit again as soon as they were able, and Thorin was even so bold as to invite him to the feast that would be hosted once Erebor was reclaimed. Beorn seemed to thoroughly enjoy that one, and Balin had to quickly lead the glowering king off before he could sour their parting. Veritably loaded down with honey and hard bread, the group made their way bravely into the morass and clotted darkness that lay thick within the sickly oak forest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> P.S. - Did you see the way Thorin counted all the lovely ladies as taken? Because he did it. I don't think he realizes he did it, but he done did it. Hehe. 
> 
> [I have to cope because I keep going on tumblr and all I see are sad song edits and acorns and I don't know if my eyes can keep leaking like this and Tauriel PLS WITH YOUR HEART WRENCHING LINES STAHP]
> 
>  
> 
> oh and also don't put much (any) stock in my chapter names, I just sort of inanely pick them. I admire people that can have a fic with solid, meaningful chapter titles that contribute to the fic as a whole. I am not one of those people.


	18. Strolling In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Welp folks, this is the last chapter I had pre-written for this fic. I am going to do my absolute best to keep updates somewhat regular, but the timing might be a bit dodgy from here on out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I shamelessly stole lyrics from for Bofur’s lullaby: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JZU6UFlBoq4

 

 

     The endemic of Mirkwood was a physical force felt even by the dwarves. Seeping out from the edges, it made the very air grey. At the crest of a hill it came into view suddenly, and Bella had to stop herself from gagging. Glancing over at Rowan, she saw a violent shiver travel down the young hobbit’s body. She felt it too then.

 

     This festering place was the most sentient Rowan had ever experienced. If she cast out her earth-sense, it was as if she could nearly talk to the woods, in the same way that she could almost converse with Bifur, the barrier thin. It would have been a thrilling notion, perhaps in its younger years. But now the woods had grown cancerous and beyond any friendly memories of their maker.

 

     Stopping at the old gates to send Beorn’s horses back, she tried to ignore the menace and hatred that dripped from the slimy trunks. When Gandalf abruptly announce his departure, panic beat swiftly along her throat. The dwarves erupted like angry hornets, but Gandalf pressed over their arguments with one of his signature lofty lines, and was on his horse. As Dwalin muttered something foul under his breath and Gloin shot the receding figure a dark look, Thorin sighed deeply before stating that there was no point in wasting time.

 

     Muscling on packs, canisters, and flasks, everyone arranged themselves in formation, pausing to take in the beast before them. Rowan breathed a desperate wish into the last patch of true sun as the hoofbeats faded away behind her: Please let them make it through this place swiftly.  As the shadows fully enveloped her, she made an urgent grab for Bofur’s hand, taking comfort in its strength around hers.

 

     What seemed like several hours into the trip, and she could no longer tell if it was day or night. She wished exhaustedly that she could turn her earth-sense off. The trees were screaming at her like a gallows crowd, sharp threats whispering amongst the dark spaces off the path, pressing in all around. The disease was pulling at her from the open connection, and the urge to try and heal the woods was hard to ignore. Rowan knew if she put herself into the effort, it would kill her. There was simply too much, she would be a bucket against an inferno.

 

      Escaping into her animal form wasn’t an option. The place was completely devoid of all wildlife for a reason. If she traded in her stubborn determination for the simple goals and desires of a woodland creature, she too would flee from this place as swiftly as her paws would take her. With no better comfort, Rowan desperately clutched the ring in her pocket with one hand, and Bella’s coat with the other. The combination of helplessness and darkness dragged at her, and she was relieved when they finally stopped at an indiscernible point along the path. Camp was quickly made and a small dinner rationed out. She unrolled her pack next to Bofur’s and all but burrowed into him as soon as he was seated. Chuckling quietly, he put his arm around her and jested, “Well, and I am glad to see ye as well, though I fear I can’t quite match your enthusiasm.”

 

     Rowan just squeezed him tighter, looking up into his mustached face. Seeing her discomfort, Bofur’s eyes softened. “While you still look quite pretty when sad lassie, I should think I like it better when you’re smiling.”

 

     He tugged her in closer until she was curled against his side, sharing their blankets and his coat. “How about I sing ye a song, hmm?”  Nodding into his chest, Rowan felt him hum along as he thought, before settling on a tune.

 

 

     “There’s a man in a world of pain,

          Can you hear it in the air and the words he sings?

     He’s just a man, nothing more, nothing less but nonetheless,

          Lives his life with every drop he bleeds.

 

               Anakíth, Anakíth, Anakíth A kíth A kíth

                    Anakíth Anakíth A li

 

     Marching through this world,

          As the past floats round his weary head,

     Something’s got to give, cause every man has got to live,

          So raise your head afore you drop and give

               Anakíth, Anakíth, Anakíth A kíth A kith

                    Anakíth Anakíth A li

 

     Carry on your way.”

 

 

     He had sung in a slow, quiet voice, and as he drifted off the last line the silence rushed back in.

 

          “That was rather sad,” Rowan stated.

 

           “Aye,” Bofur replied.

 

     “I like it,” she said decisively, after considering it for a moment, and settled more firmly back into him. She could feel his soft laugh ruffle her hair. “I figured you might, that’s why I picked it. Most folks just think it’s sad and leave it at that, but I knew you would understand the feel of it. Anakíth means ‘young arrivals’.  It’s a lullaby of sorts, sung to young dwarrows to warn them of the hardships of life. A bit grim for a lullaby, I suppose. But honest nonetheless.”

 

          “That’s nice, in its own way. Hobbits never try to prepare their children for any hardship, for such a thing is rare to come. It is all the harder when it inevitably finds them though.” Rowan squirmed a moment before continuing.

 

          “I was too young to be there, but I know Bella had a terrible time when both her parents died in the accident.” She felt Bofur stiffen slightly behind her, and she sighed. “She wouldn’t have told anyone, don’t even begin to feel bad for not knowing,” she warned him, and looked up to see a sad twist to his mouth.

 

          “How it is you know me so well, I will simply leave as one of the mysteries of hobbits.” He gently kissed the top of her head. “But I will still feel sad for her, because that is a tragedy to endure, especially when kept locked away.”

 

          “She’s not even really my Aunt. Just a family relation, but I used to go to visit her very often when I was little, running off without my parents knowing. She was an escape from my bustling family, and always had good food and stories.” Rowan smiled at the memories. “I used to just come in without even knocking. One day I came over and found her sitting in her parent’s old bedroom, holding a portrait of them and crying. I asked her what was wrong, and she told me that sometimes people get so full of emotion that it just fills them all the way up, until they just can’t hold it all anymore, and when that happens it has to leak out somehow, and that’s why people cry.”

 

     Bofur rubbed his hand across her arm in comfort, before saying very quietly, “Your ‘aunt’ is a very wise woman, that I’ve known since we first showed up at her house.”

 

      He fell silent, both of their gazes finding Bella’s figure in the dim light, her face grim but still smiling. Shaking off his private thoughts, Bofur continued.

 

          “What I don’t know about though, is this ‘bustling family’ o’ yours. I think I should like to hear about them, they seem a merry bunch.” Rowan laughed, and they gently conversed about their families, keeping the forest at bay with memories.

 

 

                                                                 ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~     ~

 

 

     Bella’s parents had been on her mind often as of late, though not because of any overheard conversation. Many small things reminded her of them, and of home. On the topic of Beorn, she knew her father would be somewhat scared but unfailingly polite. And her mother would have loved him. She shook her head ruefully. How much more she had seen and done on her adventures than her parents ever had. They would be proud, and scared for her in equal measures.

 

     And this forest… it made her wish terribly for home. Or for Beorn’s. Anywhere but here. But at the bottom of the barrel, it could be worse. For they had a path, and she was not alone. She watched Rowan and Bofur sharing a hushed conversation, and Bombur offered her a smile with her dinner ration. Sadly, a fire was out of the question and the sickly light quickly turned to true darkness in their modest camp. With not much else to do, individuals slowly began to settle in for the night until the whole camp was abed. Feeling uneasy, Bella sat in her blankets, trying in vain to see through the dark and rationalize the eerie sounds echoing through the trees. Everything seemed detached and surreal in the formless dark.

 

     When something suddenly alighted upon her shoulder, Bella’s wings instinctively slammed out to protect her as her heart tried to take leave of her chest. She felt the feathers collide with something solid on her left side and the breath leave someone’s chest with an audible huff. Her mind suddenly supplied the earlier announcement that Thorin was to take the first watch of the night, and she felt the blood rush to her face.

 

          “Thorin?” she asked hesitantly to the inky air around her.

 

          “Yes,” his deep voice echoed back with a wheeze.

 

          “Sorry!" Bella exclaimed. "Are you alright?” She tried unsuccessfully to wave her hands around and locate him.

 

          “I’m fine, just a bit winded. Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

 

      She heard his jacket rustling as he brushed himself down. Deciding it was time to disappear for good, Bella tucked her wings back around herself and prepared to lay down for good.

 

          “Sorry,” she repeated sheepishly. Before making the safety of her blanket though, she felt Thorin’s hand gently card through the small feathers along the top of her left wing.

 

          “Quit apologizing. And sleep well, bâhzundush.” He whispered before his footsteps quickly moved off to the edge of camp.

 

     Frozen halfway between seated and prone, Bella wondered whether or not she was actually awake. Shaking her head to clear it of errant thoughts, she tucked snugly into her nest of blankets and willed sleep to come.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bâhzundush: (the) raven
> 
> (much thanks to 'The Dwarrow Scholar' on Scribd for publishing the most helpful thing on the internet)


	19. Not a nice place to travel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is so short!

     When Ori gently shook Bella awake, she felt as if sleep had only come moments ago. But the minuscule shift in light indicated that they had indeed survived their first night in Mirkwood. Picking themselves up, the group continued to follow the path, keeping snide comments about the poor craftsmanship of elven roads to themselves. The stifling atmosphere smothered any attempts at idle conversation, and even if the discomfort of hundreds of invisible eyes pressing in on them hadn't existed, anything to be said about their present situation would only have spanned several minutes. Thorin's terrible sense of direction couldn't be mocked, with the shabby but clear path laid at their feet; and one tree full of webs and malice looked much like the next.  

 

     It was just after they had stopped for a paltry lunch that events took a turn for the perplexing. Gloin kept grousing at Nori to stop stepping on his heels, when said dwarf was ten paces ahead of him in line. Bella looked down at her feet and they appeared to be moving backwards, even though when she raised her eyes she was definitely moving in a forward fashion. Then the entire group halted as it was discovered their harboring path disappeared off a cliff face.  

         

          "Should've know Uncle would manage to literally lose an entire pathway," Kili said with a dramatic sigh. Bella turned in time to see Fili elbow him in the ribs, but the blonde couldn't suppress a smirk.

 

     The rest of the day was spent searching for a way to cross the canyon that had swallowed their path, but nightfall saw no success. Deciding it was better to stick to a dead path than no path at all, they made camp well back from the edge and settled for a few hours of fitful rest. Kili woke the entire camp with his shouting the next morning, and Bella was sure Fili in particular almost had a coronary collapse. Once it had been ascertained that the youngest Durin was not in fact being mauled by a bugaboo, Thorin managed to refrain from strangling him long enough to actually hear what the sensationalism was all about.

 

     Under cover of darkness, the maw of the forest had sewn itself back together without waking them. A worn track now stretched seamlessly into the gloom ahead of their camp. The dwarves were very distrustful of it at first, arguing amongst themselves about whether or not it might be some sort of illusion. Then Rowan had lost hold of the very short rope she held on her patience, and stormed past the rest. She did not dissappear or fall to her death, and so Bella, then Bofur followed, and the quest was back on. The remaining portion of daylight passed in similar strange conditions, and when they struck camp for the night, everyone was eager to crawl into their bedrolls and close their eyes to the deceptive forest around them.

 

 

     Days and hours blended together into a shamble of rotten surroundings and weary feet. The only definitive way to mark the passage of time was their steadily dwindling food supplies, and a squabble almost broke out when Thorin ordered Bombur to start giving everyone half-rations. Water was running low as well, and quiet panic asserted itself in tightness around eyes and shortening of patience.

 

     That was why it was a near thing that Bombur did not get left where he was asleep on the bank after the ‘magical river’ incident. Most dwarvish tempers were running low, and even Rowan felt exasperation niggle at the back of her head as she shouldered Dori’s pack so he could help carry the unconscious cook. Now given something to freely release their ire upon, the day still passed tortuously slow as the Company grumbled their way along the forest path.

 

     As Bombur’s state slowed progress and the food and water were pared down to crumbs and drops, thoughts began to sneak into everyone’s minds that they might all perish in this vile place. Just as the bleakness reached its peak though, Bombur finally woke up. Rapidly it became clear that things might have been better had he remained under enchantment. For all he could speak of were the wonderful dreams he had; of feasts laid thickly upon long tables, the finest drink pouring endlessly from barrels. He would heed no amount of angry requests to silence himself, and soon his whining was underscored by ceaseless dark threats from Dwalin, Gloin, and Nori.

 

     Several hours later, the various voices were abruptly cut short, and Bella felt mingled relief and fear at what had finally happened to stop the tirade. Turning, she found her answer. Bombur was gone, as were most of the company. She caught a last glimpse of Kili’s coat disappearing around a tree trunk, and Rowan staring after with wide eyes. Nearly growling under her breath, Bella warned her to stay there as she stomped off into the trees after the faint crashing that signaled the wake of the company. “Had one _bloody_ job,” she muttered under her breath, swatting angrily at foliage that scratched her face.

 

      As the rustling died out and turned into disgruntled yelling, Bella realized that they had all lost the path. Feeling her temper rise, she shouted everyone down and then called for Rowan, hearing her reply come faintly from a direction nearly opposite where she thought the path lay. It took over an hour to recollect everyone, and it was near dark by the time they did. They had wasted time that could have been better spent trying to escape this forsaken place, a fact that was fully known by all. With shame and hunger sloshing in the dwarves stomachs, the topic of dinner was given a wide berth as Bombur moaned in hushed tones about his empty belly.

 

          “Oh, why couldn't I have just stayed asleep, with those fantastic meals laid before me,” the red-haired dwarf keened, pulling fretfully at his braid.

 

          “Believe us, we wish you would've stayed under just as much as you do.” Dwalin griped back at him. “It would have saved us all the earaches to match our wailing bellies!”

 

          “Oh, would you all just stopper it, the lot of ya!” Bella nearly yelled, her wings rising of their own accord with her irascible mood. Backing off, Dwalin stomped to the other end of camp, and Bombur conceded to complain silently. Tempers calmed when they could no longer see each other in the inky shroud, and Bella hoped they would all be in a better state of mind on the morrow. Just before sleep claimed her, an idea came to mind that might help put the Company at ease.

 

     Waking with the slight brightening of daybreak, the hobbit wasted no time in packing her things together and scaling a tree that hung close to the path. The waking camp largely missed her antics, all except Thorin, who did not try to stop her, but simply watched carefully to make sure she did not come to harm.

 

     The trees were slippery, but moving carefully it didn't take Bella long to reach the canopy. Upon breaking into the daylight and fresh breeze, she felt an immense lifting of her spirits, even if the sun stung her eyes. The butterflies were a surprise and distraction, so that for a moment she rather forgot her purpose. Once her gaze caught on the trademark solitary peak though, it was all she could think about.

 

          “I can see it!” she called down to the forest floor, not waiting for a response. “I can see the Lonely Mountain! We are almost there!”

 

     Hurrying to reach the group and share the news properly, Bella forgot herself in the excitement and didn't keep her feet about her as she had on the way up. Hitting a slick patch of moss, she felt the world turn sideways as she tumbled down, bumping branches right and left. Finally catching up abruptly, she barely had time to register what her wings and feet were tangled in before a shadow descended and the world faded away around a sharp stinging in her side.

 

 


	20. Creatures of eight legs and two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's the next chapter, lovelies! Be warned, lots of icky spiders lay ahead. But after this, there will be a nice sass-off between Thorin and Thrandy, and generous Kili/Legolas fluff. Also Bella/Thorin bonding. I make large promises.

It was lucky really that Rowan felt so desperate for something, ANYTHING, to distract her from this thrice-forsaken forest. Besides, it was all well and good that Thorin was concerned about her aunt, watching after her safety; but if something terrible did happen to her up there, fat lot of help he would be from the ground. She wasn’t about to let her go up there without backup. 

 

Slipping on her magic ring (and it really was a lovely, clever thing), she snuck right past Thorin and up the trunk after Bella. Already, the other hobbit had disappeared from her sight. Grabbing hold of a branch, she made the untimely discovery that it was not a branch so much as a branch-shaped amalgamation of moss, which set her back a touch. And then came the yelling. It startled her so bad she almost slipped right out of the tree again, and Rowan cursed the dwarves under her breath, even as her chest tightened with worry. What was happening now? 

 

It didn’t take long to find the source of the problem. Rowan had turned to peer back down at the ground, finding all the dwarves still on the path, glaring off into the shadows of Mirkwood. Shadows that were… moving. She put a hand to her mouth to keep from screaming, reminding herself fervently that she was invisible, they couldn’t see her, just stay still and quiet. Rowan looked on in horror as an especially large spider crawled past just a few feet away from her, dropping silently onto the brave dwarves from above as they remained distracted by the ones on the ground. Her panicky mind latched onto the sound of her aunt calling faintly from above as her body threatened to vibrate right off the branch she clung to. Bella. She had to get to her, tell her what happened. Her aunt would know what to do, she always did. 

 

Taking a deep breath, Rowan tried to calm herself, waiting for another spider to pass before she set off in the direction she had last heard Bella from. She only managed three more branches before a pained cry stabbed into her ears and sent ice through her veins. The mantra started up in her head, leaking out in whispers of breath. No, not Bella, not her aunt, no, they can’t have her, no, please don’t leave me alone, please no. 

 

If asked later, Rowan would not have been able to say that she ever made a conscious decision to follow the spiders. She had no plan, it most definitely wasn’t an act of heroism, but more an act of no better option. It wouldn’t do much good to return to their now-desolate camp, and there wasn’t exactly a friendly local Rent-A-Ranger station nearby. No, if any rescuing was going to happen, it was down to her. Bella had always said that courage wasn’t the absence of fear, but rather the judgment that something was more important than the fear. And of course Gandalf had told her that true courage was about not knowing when to take a life, but when to spare one. The wizard’s words didn’t seem to apply to this situation; she certainly wasn’t going to be sparing any spider’s lives. Her aunt’s advice it was then. 

 

A new mantra gave her the courage to get up and follow the vile clicking noises into the trees. The safety of the company was more important that her fear of the spiders. She had a magic ring on her side, and a good sharp sword. She would save them

 

Fortunate for her shaking legs, the spiders did not stray far, unable or unwilling to carry their feast a long distance. Crouched behind the sturdy bole of an oak, Rowan bounced on her toes, uncertain of what daring deed came next. She could run straight in, screaming her fury, as Dwalin might have done. But she was neither strong nor particularly large, and doubted her own ability to take down two spiders at once, let along an entire pack. Perhaps draw a few out at a time, picking them off slowly? She tossed out the idea almost immediately. Biting her lower lip in frustration, she let her eyes wander, until they came to rest on a particularly long cord of webbing that stretched away to the next tree. It bounced and vibrated as one of the spiders moved on the other side of the branch, and her mind supplied the image of Kili idly plucking on pieces of webbing as they wound their way along the elven road. 

 

Bending down carefully, Rowan picked up a fragment of rotten branch that had gotten lodged against the trunk. Hefting it in her hand, she hoped the spiders were as stupid as she presumed them to be, and that her throw was strong enough. Bracing herself, she bent her arm back as far as it would go and flung the small log off between a space in the trees, listening nervously as it crashed down. While she didn't see the webbing move, apparently the spiders felt it, and she tried to keep her breathing steady as they streamed past her, buzzing angrily to each other about the disturbance. As soon as the last hairy leg had poked out of sight, Rowan turned and scrambled as fast as she could around the tree trunk, anxious about how much time she had before one of the beasts returned. Drawing her blade, Rowan counted feverishly as she cut each of the company down, all but gasping in relief as she watched them begin to wriggle loose on the ground below. She had actually done it; she had saved the day

 

The ominous scraping noise behind her was the only warning. Rowan whirled just in time, her blade swinging out before her by instinct. It cleanly sliced through the front legs of a singularly far spider that had been heading her way. The creature wobbled, trying to regain balance on its remaining limbs, hissing fanatically as it did so

"It burns, it burns!”

Tired of hearing it's sickening voice, Rowan quickly bent forward and sliced another of its legs. Too far unbalanced to hold on, the spider tipped out of sight like a large and hideous balloon, crashing to the forest floor. Seeking the safety of the tree trunk once more, Rowan gazed thoughtfully at her blade. 

"Burn," she murmured to herself. "That's a good name."

 

Returning it carefully to its sheath, she began the climb back down to where she had dumped the rest of the company, keeping a lookout for spiders. But as she climbed it seemed as if it was taking her far too long to reach the ground. Craning her neck to look beneath her, she realized that the tree housing the spider's 'home base' was actually a group of many intertwined and tangled oaks. The one she had started descending from looked as if it had fallen over in its earlier years, and then continued growing sideways. When she finally made the ground, it would be some distance from where she had started. Already she couldn’t see any sign of the others, and she felt her stomach drop. Climbing more quickly, Rowan all but slid down the last slimy section of the trunk, hitting the ground with a soft thump. 

 

Retracing her path down the tree with her eyes, Rowan all but ran towards where she desperately hoped the others would be. Rounding a trunk, she almost collided with a pair of tall, olive clad legs. Tucking herself back against the bark, she thanked Yavanna that she had left the ring on. 

 

Hearing the disturbance, the red-haired elf had swung around, looking sharply for the source. Finding nothing, she reluctantly turned her gaze back to the front, where someone was speaking Sindarin. Hardly daring to breathe, Rowan took stock of the situation. Her dwarves and aunt were in the center of the clearing before her, with at least a dozen of what could only be the elves of Mirkwood ranged around them. It was clear the meeting was not friendly. A blonde elf had taken Orcist from Thorin, and was looking over all of them as if they were something foul he had found stuck on his boot. Speaking sharply, he ordered the dwarves taken back to await questioning. As the elves roughly marched the ‘prisoners’ away in single file, the elf in front of her and another were bid to find the rest of the dwarves’ supplies and bring them in as well. 

Waiting until the elves had moved off, Rowan began to follow a safe distance behind, wishing the day had ended better. At least they weren’t being prepared as spider supper. Just slipping through the large arbor-themed doors before they slammed shut, she recalled the words of warning Beorn had spoken against these elves. A heavy feeling of trepidation settled in her gut. She was unsure how they would escape this place, but at the moment it felt well beyond her new hero abilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Courage is not the absence of fear but rather the judgment that something is more important than fear; The brave may not live forever but the cautious do not live at all.”
> 
>  
> 
> ― Meg Cabot, The Princess Diaries


	21. Pretty in Prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First off: I AM SO SORRY I'VE BEEN MISSING FOR SO LONG CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME? *Falls at your feet* I had meant to take just a weekend off to catch up on writing, but then I had a series of unfortunate events that culminated with my mother taking a two week stay in ICU. Real life can be a real dick sometimes. But, all's better in my household now, and I finally had time to sit down at my computer and write! So, here is your overdue reward, and I promise I will be doing my absolute best to keep up with this from now on.

 

One fact that seemed determined to lodge in Bella’s mind was that she was very, very tired of being captured. Rowan had saved them from one nasty end, only for them to almost immediately step into another one, and if these thrice damned elves did not stop jostling her, she was going to clock one of them. The elf nearest her seemed to sense the danger he was in, for his too-pretty eyes kept sliding down to nervously fix on her wings, and he appeared all too happy to turn her over into a barred cell. Just as glad to be free of his clumsy services, she all but leapt forward into the space before turning to glare back out at their new temporary housing. The sight of Thorin being shoved in after her distracted her momentarily, before the surprise was eclipsed by a stronger emotion. Bustling up to where Thorin was glaring balefully at the receding elvish backs, she made a grab for his sleeve and all but hissed in his ear.

 

“Where is Rowan? I thought they would have put the two of us together – no offense,” she muttered quickly at the raised eyebrow the king had given her. “I’m sure you’ll make a lovely cell mate, but where is my niece?!”

 

Thorin just sighed. “She cut us all down out of the tree, but I never saw her after that. The elves did not bring her in with the rest of us. I do not know where she is Bella, I am sorry.”

 

 

And he truly did look it. But that did not help Bella much at all. Her brain worked furiously to replay the last memory of her niece. Her vision had been wavering in and out, she never saw her, just heard the shouts... Noticing the death grip Bella now had on his arm, Thorin quickly told her the full tale in quiet tones, filling in the parts of her memory the spider venom had eradicated. His rational facts brought a sense of wavering calm. If Rowan had been waylaid by spiders, someone would have heard the ruckus and saved her. Much as they were prisoners, they were still more useful alive, and as rude as their captors were, they would hardly let someone die needlessly. At least she hoped this was the case. Beorn's warnings kept niggling at the edges of her frail confidence. 

 

After some time, her preoccupation was interrupted by yet another elf, who unlocked their cell and bid them to follow, to take counsel with the king. More elves was rather the last thing she wanted to see, especially this one. The way he sniffed the words at them, as if they were being granted an astounding honor and he thought they should have at least cleaned up for the occasion, made Bella want to take Sting in hand and see if the stuffy prat was still so uppity with all his beautiful hair missing.

 

A hand landed heavily on her shoulder, and Bella turned to see that Thorin was trying very hard to keep back a smile. “You do realize you’re speaking aloud?” he chuckled, and Bella cut her gaze back to the elf, who looked quite scandalized and just a bit fearful. Feeling only slightly ashamed and rather savage, she ignored Thorin and stumped along after their guide, who refused to look at her. Seemingly unconcerned with her lack of attention, the dwarf continued in an undertone. “I thought I recalled you saying that hobbits were related to elves? And you got along so well with the tree-shaggers in Rivendell.”

 

“Yes, well,” Bella said snippily, “They knew how to behave as proper and gracious hosts, not bumbling oafs like this lot. If there’s one thing hobbits can’t stand, it’s bad manners, especially towards guests.”

 

“Oh, are we guests now?” Thorin said in mock surprise. “Someone should tell them, I don’t think they got the memo.”

 

Suppressing a smile, Bella had the sudden thought that she should not be this sportive while under detainment by powerful immortal beings in a magical forest. Glancing back at Thorin, she thought he seemed downright delighted to be a captive. His face was back to it's usual stony façade, but there was a burning light in his eyes that gave the impression the king was spoiling for a fight.

 

As the hallway before them suddenly opened up into a vast hall, Thorin whispered urgently into her ear. “Speak nothing of Rowan. No news is good news. She may just be our ticket out of here.”

 

Opening her mouth to protest that of course she was going to ask about her niece, she slowly closed it again, swallowing the fact that he was right. Not that it meant she had to like it. Bella hated that Thorin was always so logical. It was going to be difficult to not know the fate of her dear niece. If any ill had befallen Rowan, it would stain her heart for the rest of her days. But for all that she detested it, the best she could do right now was deal with an elven king, and hope to make it through this all alive.

 

 

 

 

Upon reaching the dais where the ‘King of Mirkwood’ sat in repose, Bella knew that her goal to make it through the day alive was a tad melodramatic. Clearly, they weren’t going to be killed, unless Thranduil majestic’ed them to death. He had a love for the sumptuous that all royalty carried on some level, and strived for sensationalism. Looking at it in scope, she couldn’t really blame him. If all she had to her claim was a dark, slimy forest and millennia to enjoy it, she would probably get her kicks wherever possible and hoard pretty things too. Standing back idly as the two kings circled each other, Bella wondered if perhaps that was the elf’s real end goal – to keep Thorin as another pretty thing in his collection. Snorting at her own joke, Bella had to admit it had merits in her book. He was very handsome for a dwarf, and sassy as hell to boot. She wondered that she had not realized it before now, except that perhaps she had been too busy avoiding him at all costs and worrying about her niece. At least she was doing much less of that now, thanks unintentionally on his part to the Elven King. 

 

When they had been paraded before the throne, it was rapidly made plain that the only reason for her summons before the king was the novelty of being a hobbit among dwarves, which meany that Rowan had not been found or even in fact seen. No questions were asked of the reason for her presence in the group. In fact, after a cursory glance over, she had been all but ignored. It seemed to irk Thorin, but having the information she desired, Bella had simply accepted it and settled in to watch the performance. And it had been enjoyable. Once sure he had the full attention of the room, Thranduil had risen from where he was elaborately stationed in shadowy magnificence, and Bella had secretly hoped he would trip on his dress coming down the stairs. But evidently, being immortal gave one plenty of time to practice, and he had pulled off his dramatic entrance flawlessly. As he reached the floor, the elf seemed to rise endlessly, lording his height over Thorin. Privately, Bella still counseled that Thorin was the more attractive. Not that anyone was asking her opinion, of course. When the king finally spoke, Bella couldn't help but think it was very well suited to him. Rich, and sumptuous and sharp. Thinking again of her parents, she knew this was a meeting her mother would have delighted to be privy to, the stakes be damned.

 

Personally, the deal Thranduil tried to strike didn’t sound all that unfair. Much as she disliked the elf on principle, if Erebor had half what the dwarves boasted it did, the gems he sought should be a pittance to pay for the ability to walk out of this damned forest and continue the quest. Of course, she knew Thorin and his pride and stubbornness that existed in spades, and so wasn’t really surprised when he started shouting. The stunned look gracing Thranduil's face as the undersized royal threw a fit was comical, made more so by the fact that neither of them could understand what was being said. Not that they needed to for the sentiment behind it to be understood. The elf's face slowly sank into controlled wrath, and Bella felt her heart sink. She had waited for some sort of terrible punishment to be issued for the insults, but all in all, the King remained true to character, and really, Bella was just chuffed at the idea of spending the rest of her life stuck in a tiny room with Thorin and his vast pride.

 

In all honesty, the Thorin part wasn’t that bad. She just wished he was as good as keeping quiet as he had expected her to be. Rubbing her stomach absently, Bella desperately hoped they would actually be getting several square meals a day while the king waited for stony dwarven resolves to crack. Surely they had not sunken so low as to starve them. Lo and behold, a small portion of Bella’s faith in elves was restored when they were returned to their cell. A plate each was waiting for them, consisting of what Thorin muttered was rabbit food but ate nonetheless, and cups of good cold water. As soon as his plate was clear, Thorin got up and pressed close to the bars of their cell. He tried to call for anyone else in the company, but Bella knew he held out no real hope. They had not seen any of the others on their way out or back in, and were clearly being held in a separate location away from them, likely in the hopes of breaking them down faster. For all the effort though, it only seemed to make Thorin enlivened. He paced the length of the cell for a while, and Bella got sleepy just watching him. Eventually, he noticed her nodding off and insisted she lay down on the small mat provided.

 

 “It’s not as if anything exciting is going to happen anyway, and if it does you will surely hear it,” he reasoned, and who was she to argue. The rhythmic sound of Thorin’s pacing lulled her to sleep almost instantly.

 

 

 

The 'bed' was no more a thin mattress laid on the ground, but nonetheless was softer than bare ground full of roots, and so Bella could not be blamed for sleeping rather deeply. Her belly was full, her thirst quenched, and while being imprisoned was arguably a bad place to be, it beat where they had been. Cracking open her eyes, the first thing that registered was that a large bulk was blocking most of her vision. At some point, Thorin had grown tired of pacing, and was laid out half on the mattress and half on the floor in front of her. Her wing was stretched over them both, either by accident, or because Thorin had gently pulled it to it's full length to use as a blanket. She highly suspected this was the case, as Rowan had taken great joy in doing just the same every night during the journey, and Thorin was nothing if not observant. 

 

Thinking of her niece left an acute tearing feeling in her chest, and it took a few moments for Bella to register the sharp tapping sound that was coming from somewhere on the other side of Thorin. Looking over the top of his shaggy head, she saw nothing that would be causing the noise, but in the next moment, seemingly out of thin air, the very person she had been missing most appeared. It was a very near thing that Bella did not shriek, but apparently some small whine of noise did escape her, because suddenly Thorin was awake and shielding her entirely from the doorway, a growl slipping out of his throat. Shoving at his shoulder impatiently, Bella ducked under his outstretched arm and scrambled towards the cell door, hugging her niece as best she could through the iron bars. Laughter welled up from her throat unbidden as Rowan's bright smile shined in the dim light. 

 

"Well, looks like you all don't need nearly as much rescuing as I thought. Getting along just peachy in prison, aren't we?" Rowan snickered. 

 

Bella was so happy to see her she didn't even care about the teasing. "But you, how did you get in, how were you not seen?" she rambled. "Oh I don't even care, you're all right!"

 

"I care." She looked behind her to see a smile gracing Thorin's face, but his voice was all business. "How did you get in? Can we get out the same way?"

 

Rowan gave a nervous chuckle. "As for the getting in, we'll just call that a bit of good old hobbit magic. As for getting out... I'm still working on that part." she shuffled restlessly. "I don't know where the others are yet, I only found you all first because I saw you when they brought you out to see the Elven King, and followed you back. This place is a maze." Rowan threw a frantic look at Thorin, and Bella noticed she was holding onto her hand rather tighter than necessary. 

 

"Hey, that's alright," she soothed. "The important thing is, you found us, and we're all okay, yeah? I'm sure the others are just fine as well. We'll get through this." Bella tried to make her tone as positive as possible, and saw her niece relax slightly. Suddenly realizing something, Bella cursed under her breath and gave the cell bars a light smack. "Oh drats, I wish I had saved you some food! You must be starving!" 

 

At this the younger hobbit did perk up slightly, and she gave a mischievous grin. "Nah, I'm alright. I saw them carrying a tray absolutely loaded up with food for the King's lunch, so I scampered back and stole some off of it. There was so much there, he never would have noticed anyway." She sniffed. Bella thought it must have been rather a lot of food for a hobbit to think it extravagant, and felt her dislike of the Mirkwood elves grow. For his part, Thorin looked like he could never be more proud of anyone in his entire life.

 

They spoke for a bit longer, but eventually ran out of news to share, and Rowan decided with a sigh that she had better go off and try to find the others. Bella begged her to be safe, and to make sure to get enough to eat and plenty of sleep, and to come back to them if she needed anything. Once she bid her goodbye, there was nothing to do but sit and wait. It was clear Thorin was itching to make some sort of plans, but with no idea what they would be up against, there was not much he could do. Eventually another meal came, and then a sound of distant music and laughter drifted down from the halls above. It made Thorin mutter darkly under his breath, but Bella thought it a lovely and welcome distraction. She drifted off again, her thoughts with her niece and the rest of the company, hoping they were all safe.  

 

 


End file.
